


moments ii

by ab82



Series: moments [2]
Category: Scream (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 22,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab82/pseuds/ab82
Summary: snapshots from audrey's season two interactions with and about emma, through audrey's eyes.(aka the one where i'm still an angsty piece of crap who re-writes every moment audrey had with emma in S2 and adds as much emotional pain to it as possible, because why not)





	1. the prank

**Author's Note:**

> 99% of dialogue credit goes to MTV. These characters are not my own.
> 
> Well, here you have it! The sequel to "Moments", very creatively titled "Moments II", this time dealing with snapshots from Audrey's life in Season 2!
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated and encouraged. Thank you for reading :)
> 
> xo,  
> L

Audrey can’t do anything but stare at her own two shaking hands. _Emma_ , she reminds herself. _Gotta do this for Emma._

 

She’s still got bits and pieces of the prankster’s blood caked underneath her fingernails. She needs a shower, is all sweaty and teary and gross from her earlier encounter with the aforementioned prankster and his bitch friend Haley. And above all, she _has_ to calm down and get herself together before this party tonight. Because Emma’s coming back. After three months of intense therapy (no visitors allowed), Emma’s coming back to Lakewood, and Audrey _cannot_ let on that there’s even a possibility of something being wrong. She hates to think of her best friend like this, but it’s true — Emma’s still fragile, and Audrey hasn’t familiarized herself with what might set her off. Audrey’s triggers are not going to be the same as Emma’s, and so until she learns them, she’s got to go about this carefully — and showing up to Emma’s welcome back party a bloody, sweaty, anxious mess would definitely not fit under that category.

 

Still, as badly as she wants to prove to Emma that she’s safe now and coming back was a good idea, wanting to do this for Emma doesn’t make it any easier. Because the truth is, what happened tonight _hurt_ her. Not in the “oh my god how could you be so mean my feelings are hurt” type of way; more in the sense of tonight’s prank re-opening old wounds. The scar on her arm burns a little at the thought of it, all the memories she thought she’d buried with Piper coming right back. She’s still trembling all over, adrenaline not quite having worked its way out of her system yet, and Audrey can conclusively say that having to run for her life is _not_ an experience she’s missed. Seeing that mask, hearing the scrape of that knife tonight, watching all that blood pour out of Haley… No matter how fake it was, it had been _terrifying_ in the moment, had conjured up every bad flashback from October. And now she’s got those thoughts again, the vivid pictures of Rachel’s bruised throat and Emma’s slashed stomach, Piper’s voice bouncing around in her head, haunting her. Sometimes she swears she can feel the cold steel of Kieran’s shotgun in her hands. Taunting her. _You killed_ , it seems to say. _You brought Piper here. Are you really any better than her? Murderer._ Murderer.

 

“No,” Audrey finds herself whispering. She shakes her head, forces her thoughts to blank out temporarily as she tries to distract herself with happier memories, daffodil fields with Emma and stupid video projects with Rachel, gaming nights with Noah — 

 

It’s not a long-term solution, but it works, and Audrey’s whole body practically sags in relief as the thoughts get quieter and quieter and her hands shake a little less. Alcohol is what she’s been using in the past few months to make these thoughts go away for even longer, but she can’t show up to Emma’s party wasted, so hopefully this method will stick for a little while.

 

Besides, it’s _Emma_. She’ll do just about anything for her, and her body and brain both know that. Maybe the thoughts won’t even come back at all in her presence.

 

All Audrey can do is pray to whatever God there is that they don’t.


	2. the return

An hour later, she’s cleaned up as best she could, thrown on her favorite leather jacket (it’s kind of like a security blanket for her, if she’s honest), and managed to score a 6-pack of some fancy beer she knows Emma likes. The party’s at Kieran’s house tonight, as most parties have been since Sheriff Hudson died. It’s sad, really, Kieran being all alone in that place, but he refuses to move in with any of them (Brooke and Jake had both offered, though Jake had claimed he “needed a built-in designated driver”, so in retrospect, maybe Jake’s offer wasn’t quite that enticing), so here he stays. Like the rest of them, he’s tried to party away his emotions in recent months, though no one knows how well that’s worked (for any of them).

 

And then, before she knows it, the doorbell rings, Kieran rushing to answer it, and that familiar, lilting voice fills the hallway. Audrey feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of her as the _click-clack_ of heels echoes throughout the house, and then — Emma’s there, right in front of her. She looks so happy, so beautiful that Audrey forgets how to breathe for a second. She’s got so many mixed emotions right now — relief at Emma’s apparent okayness, slight sadness at the way Kieran’s got his hand on the small of her back (though Audrey’d never admit that), a little bit of terror at the memories she can feel stirring in the back of her mind. She quickly plasters on a smile and tamps it all down. _Gotta be good, for Emma. Don’t scare Emma. Don’t ruin her recovery._

 

She takes hold of the balloon centerpiece, walking with Jake, Brooke, and Noah as they present the cake to Emma, and sets the balloons down on a side table. She’s scared to get too close, if she’s honest. She doesn’t know if she herself might bring back bad memories for Emma — after all, apart from Maggie, she was the only other person on that dock, and for all she knows, Emma may very well associate her with Piper and near-death. She hopes not — that’d break her heart — but Audrey has no idea whatsoever.

 

She clutches the beer in her other hand like it’s her lifeline as Jake crows, “Welcome home, Girl Interrupted.” 

 

“Tact,” Brooke sniffs next to her.

 

“No, it’s a compliment, ’cause Angelina’s hot,” Jake protests, and Audrey can’t help but chuckle a little at that. Jake’s a good person at heart, but his total lack of filter can sometimes be more awkward than funny. And Emma _needs_ a filter right now — God forbid Jake make a joke about Piper or anything that happened in October.

 

“Guys, it’s okay,” Emma cuts in, shoving her hands in her pockets, and Audrey instantly stiffens because she knows that means it is very _not_ okay. “I had some issues, and I dealt with them. And now, I’m back here because I want to get back to normal.” 

 

_Normal_ , Audrey thinks. _That’s funny._ Because what Emma doesn’t realize — or what she maybe does realize, and is just trying to deny until she starts to believe her own lie — is that there is no such thing as normal anymore. Not after what they’ve been through. It’s a conclusion that the rest of them came to long ago, a discovery that they found in the bottom of empty beer bottles and cracked shot glasses, although she and Noah have been the only ones to admit it so far. Brooke, Jake, and Kieran are still pretending they might someday return to the people they once were before the mask, and while that’s fine if it works for them, Audrey knows it’s all a lie. Sometimes, she wonders if things would be easier for her if she kept up that lie, too. Accepting that she’ll never be somewhat normal again, that she’ll never be anything but damaged — well, that does hurt a little bit. And maybe the pain of that realization is why Emma’s currently trying so hard to act like normal is a thing they’ll still get to have. But thinking about Emma going through that same kind of hurt — it breaks Audrey’s heart, just a little bit.

 

“Okay? And it would really suck if you guys started acting all weird around me,” Emma finishes, a little laughter in her voice. 

 

“It’s really good to have you home,” Audrey says softly, the truth coming out before she can stop herself. She didn’t mean to get this sentimental so soon, but Emma Duval does strange things to her. They lock eyes for the briefest of seconds, and when Audrey finds nothing but warmth and desperate hope in Emma’s eyes, she can’t help but smile. Because even if they won’t ever get back to normal, even if they’re fragile and damaged and totally unprepared to deal with reality, Emma’s still _here_ , safe and breathing and not hating her, and a couple months ago, that was more than Audrey could’ve ever hoped for.

 

“I love you,” Brooke squeals, breaking the strange silence of the moment, and then they’re all wrapping their final girl in a hug. 

 

Audrey’s breathing in not just the mango of Emma’s shampoo, but the sandalwood of Kieran’s cologne, too, and then the delicate floral scent of Brooke’s perfume, and finally the spicy scent that both Noah and Jake prefer. She’s surrounded by the people she loves. And in that moment, she knows without a doubt — they might not be normal anymore, but they’re going to be okay. 


	3. the comfort

Emma’s first day back is a challenge Audrey’s not sure she’s prepared to deal with, though she’s sure as hell gonna try. Jake and Kieran have both been MIA since the party last night, but Brooke and Noah flank her on either side as they walk up to the school building, Brooke filling her in on her latest breakup with Jake (they’re always on-and-off, though this ending does sound more finite than the others) and Noah providing the occasional commentary.

 

Their conversation is relatively light and casual, but Audrey can sense the undercurrent of anxiety in all of them. Brooke’s smile is a little more forced than usual, Noah’s trying extra hard to be funny but his nervous laugh is a dead giveaway, and she — Well. To call Audrey a mess right now would be an understatement.

 

Because the thing is, she’s getting the texts and calls again, the same kind of texts and calls that Emma used to get when Piper still terrorized Lakewood. Maybe they’re just another extension of that awful prank, but something about them gives Audrey a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. These texts and calls, they _scream_ malice, and while Haley and her friend probably don’t love Audrey right now, she doesn’t think they have it in them to be this full of hatred. 

 

No. This is different, and it’s got her totally caught off-guard, which is why she is one hundred percent _not_ prepared for Emma’s first day back at school. Audrey needs to be strong and present for Emma, not lost in her own worried thoughts, but here she is, engaged in full conversation with Brooke and Noah but barely even listening.

 

Then Emma walks up, and all other thoughts are forgotten as Audrey immediately chirps, “You look fantastic!” She cringes at how fake it sounds, even though the words couldn’t be more true — Emma _does_ look fantastic. Brooke and Noah follow suit with similar hollow words of encouragement, but thankfully, Emma doesn’t get angry at the display.

 

“Wow, all right,” she laughs. “Enough with the eggshells. Let’s go.” 

 

Brooke falls into place by Emma’s side, the two blondes leading them as she ends up walking next to Noah, and Audrey hates the bitter twinge of jealousy that brings on in her chest. Brooke and Emma have been consistent best friends for two years now, no major fights or anything — of course they’re going to want to walk next to each other. And it’s such a petty thing, but somehow Audrey can’t help but feel that _she_ should be the one by Emma’s side. _I was here first_ , a nasty little voice in her head shrieks at Brooke. _I’ve known her longer and I guarantee I’ll deal with any panic attacks better. Step aside._

 

She forces herself to calm down and tries to start up a casual conversation about comic books with Noah, but her heart’s not in it, and she thinks Noah knows that. As they walk up the stairs, the feeling only gets more intense, the voice only louder, the urge to shove Brooke out of the way only stronger. 

 

Below them, someone drops their math textbook, and Emma freezes. They all stop, too, her and Noah exchanging nervous glances as Brooke dons an expression of pure anxiety. Flashbacks race through Audrey’s mind, vivid pictures of Emma sinking to her knees and _breaking_ , the memory of her pained sobs cracking Audrey’s heart in half. She can’t help herself now — without even thinking about it, instinct drives her to step in between Brooke and Emma, Brooke graciously slipping to the side, as she says softly, “Hey, you good?”

 

It doesn’t even register to her that they’ve clasped hands until she feels the warmth of the other girl’s skin, intertwined fingers allowing her to just brush against Emma’s wrist and feel that nervous pulse. She hopes the connection soothes her, at least a little bit. Emma tends to respond well to touch — or at least, she used to, but Audrey has no clue if that’s changed with the PTSD and the therapy.

“Yeah! I’m fine,” Emma replies, so brightly and quickly that it almost feels false, until she looks at her and they both share a smile. It’s moments like these that Audrey lives for, the quiet exchanges that no one else gets to see, the little things that they keep just to themselves. It’s moments like these that led her to fall in love with Emma Duval in the first place — and it’s moments like these that keep her wondering if she may still be in love with her.

 

They hold hands all the way to Emma’s Psych class. It’s the longest Audrey’s let anyone touch her in months.

 

But Emma doesn’t need to know that.


	4. the call

Two days later, Jake Fitzgerald is dead and Audrey’s life has gone into a total tailspin.

 

It’s all happening again. Someone has killed Jake, and now they’re trying to bloody Audrey’s hands, too — not that they weren’t already bloody, since it’s her fault that Piper came to Lakewood, and because of that she already has, what, eight deaths on her hands? 

 

Honestly, she’s still trying to process it — she only found Jake in the storage unit last night — when Emma calls.

 

“Hey, Emma, are you okay?” is the first thing out of her mouth when she picks up the phone, every worst-case scenario instantly popping into her mind. ( _And that’s the saddest thing, right? That Emma would only call in case of an emergency. They used to talk on the phone for hours…)_

 

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Emma says, sounding a little confused. Audrey lets out a sigh of relief, then immediately hopes that Emma didn’t hear.

 

“No, uh, it’s just early. Um, what’s up?” she asks, mind in a million different places. 

 

“My dad’s back,” Emma blurts out. Audrey’s chest tightens with worry the second she hears that. Emma’s dad was nothing but trouble, did more harm than good and only hurt Emma in the end. How _dare_ he come back right when she’s trying to recover. Audrey would like to punch him herself, if she didn’t think that’d guarantee her a night in jail given her already-spotty record. “I don’t know, you’re the only one who knew him before he left,” Emma continues. “And I haven’t slept all night, and I’m totally freaking out,” she adds, more quiet now.

 

“Wow,” Audrey breathes, unable to help herself. “He just shows up… literally when you get back to town? How long has he been here?” _God, what a jerk._

 

“I don’t know, I didn’t interrogate him,” Emma says carefully. Audrey knows she should choose her words more cautiously, can sense the slight irritation in Emma’s voice now, but at the same time, she doesn’t want to sugarcoat things and see Emma get hurt again. 

 

“Doesn’t it seem a little suspicious? You know, like the timing of it all?” she questions, hands wandering to the Ziploc bag of notes the killer had left in Jake’s body last night. Her mind’s straying from the subject at hand, the first time it’s done that when she’s trying to solve an Emma problem — but then again, isn’t this whole thing with the killer an Emma problem, really? She’s fighting so hard to keep her secrets _so_ Emma doesn’t find out. So she doesn’t lose Emma’s trust, or worse, her friendship. 

 

“What do you mean, ‘the timing of it’?” Emma retorts. Audrey hears the rustle of fabric in the background and knows Emma must still be in bed. _Dammit, Emma only calls from bed when she’s_ really _eaten up over something._

 

“Um, I mean, like, where was he when all of our friends, everyone we knew, was getting slaughtered? When you were _actually_ in danger?” Audrey presses, an indignant tone creeping into her voice in spite of herself. She’s not mad at Emma — she’s mad at Emma’s dad, and yet she doesn't seem to be able to convey that in a way that won’t hurt the other girl.

 

“Well, um, we’re meeting for breakfast, so maybe we’ll get into some of that,” Emma says slowly.

 

“Okay, it just seems a little strange that he’s suddenly here now.” Audrey curses herself for being so persistent, because Emma clearly isn’t reacting well to it, but something in her keeps hoping that Emma will finally wake up and realize this guy is _bad news_. No such luck so far.

 

“Yeah, no, I get that, but come on, you remember how good he was before he left, right?” Emma pleads. “I’m just… I’m trying to focus on that.” She lets out an uncomfortable laugh, the kind that says _why aren’t you agreeing with me_ , and Audrey hates hurting her but Emma has to know the truth.

 

“Actually, I kind of remember him being a little off,” Audrey admits.

 

“He wasn’t off. What do you mean ‘off’?” Emma says incredulously.

 

Audrey takes a deep breath, knowing these words are going to sting. She wishes she didn’t have to say them. “He was damaged, Emma. I—I mean, I wouldn’t have used that word when we were little, but he was damaged. When Brandon James killed all of his—”

 

“He went through a lot, okay? We should definitely be able to understand that,” Emma insists. “And — maybe he’s better now. People can recover.”

 

The desperation in her voice hurts. “Em, he just left you without any explanation. What about that?” Emma scoffs on the other end of the phone. “You should be careful,” Audrey adds, trying to infuse a little bit of softness into her tone.

 

“Yeah. Okay. I shouldn’t have called you,” Emma mutters.

 

Those words sting more than she’ll ever know. “Wait, are you pissed at me?” She should’ve known better — who would be stupid enough to be so blunt, so harsh with a traumatized girl who was probably just happy to see her dad? _Jesus, Jensen. What are you doing?_

 

“Um, I’ll see you later,” Emma says quickly, and then she’s hung up.

 

The conversation stays in Audrey’s head for the rest of the day.


	5. the fight

They still haven’t made up when Brooke drags them both into the bathroom for a “girls-only moment”. 

 

Audrey can’t bring herself to look at Emma as Brooke tells them about Branson. It hurts too much, makes her think about not just their argument, but also about what she’d almost done this morning to Noah. What she _could’ve_ done. Maybe she was going to smash the camera, but she could’ve bashed Noah’s head in. And in that moment, she was definitely about to smash _something_. Maybe it’s better if she and Emma grow apart, as much as it’ll hurt. Emma shouldn’t be friends with a killer.

 

“What is it with men from the past mysteriously showing up?” she’s muttering before she can help herself. It’s really an absent-minded thing, something that was meant to stay in her mind but accidentally came out instead, but she regrets it as Emma instantaneously fixes her with a hurt glare, shaking her head in disbelief.

 

“Wait, what does that mean?” Brooke asks, confused, looking from her to Emma, then back at her, like she’s not sure who has the answer.

 

“Emma’s deadbeat dad resurfaced, too,” Audrey snarks. She knows she shouldn’t say it, knows it’s just going to upset Emma, but maybe her brain is trying to subconsciously get them into an even bigger argument, so Emma will stay away. 

 

“Okay, not cool. And that is a totally different thing, and I was also _not_ ready to share that!” Emma snaps.

 

Brooke lets out a hurt little laugh, and Audrey’s head begins to throb. She shouldn’t have said any of this; now she’s made both Brooke and Emma angry. “You weren’t going to share it with me?” Brooke asks, suddenly seeming very small, and Audrey wants to apologize, but there’s no point in stopping now.

 

“The person I told this morning wasn’t exactly supportive, so—” Emma stumbles over her words, clearly scrambling for an excuse, and suddenly, Audrey’s angry. _Wasn’t supportive?_ Doesn’t Emma know that she’s exhausted because of her? Would she say that if she knew how Audrey’s being tortured by some psychopath, and how Audrey’s submitting to the killer’s every whim just so she won’t lose Emma’s trust? Would she say that if she knew that everything Audrey does is to protect her? _Would she?_

 

“And how _was_ your breakfast this morning?” Audrey cuts in. 

 

“It went really well,” Emma retorts, but Audrey can see the lie in her eyes. 

 

“Oh, I can tell that’s one hundred percent not true,” she scoffs. Emma just stares at her, assuming her quintessential sad-mad-and-slightly-confused look, mouth open in a perfect O, brow furrowed.

 

“Okay, are you two, like, legit fighting?” Brooke interrupts.

 

“No, it’s fine. It’s just… Audrey has some unflattering opinions about my dad, that’s all,” Emma tells her. It makes Audrey’s blood boil. _They’re not_ opinions. _They’re_ memories _. And I only told you how I felt so you wouldn’t get hurt! And you didn’t listen to me, and look where you are now anyway — hurt!_

 

“Oh, no, no, they’re _memories_ , not opinions,” Audrey interjects. All of her emotions are suddenly aching to burst out, clawing at her from just underneath her skin, and it’s too much. She’s angry, and she’s worried, and she’s exhausted and scared and hurt, and she doesn’t know how to convey all that with one sentence, but the anger wins out anyway. “And, sometimes, maybe people are going through big things that have absolutely nothing to do with you, Emma,” she finds herself snarling. “Big shocker!” 

 

And then she storms off. No point in sticking around to add further salt to the wound. The damage is done.


	6. the rescue

The killer calls her about Emma, and Audrey can’t remember how to breathe. All she knows is that the last thing she said to Emma was cruel, and awful, and _mean_ , and now Emma might die without ever knowing how she really feels. Without ever knowing how she really felt.

 

She does the stupid thing and calls 911, because she’s panicking and her world is closing in on her and she almost just got in a _car crash_ , for God’s sake, and she’s a stupid, scared teenager and she doesn’t know what else to do. 

But then she gets there and it’s just Kevin Duval. Drunk, the way she remembers him. Disappointing Emma, also the way she remembers him. Hurting the girl she loved (loves?), the way she has always remembered him.

 

She hears more than she’d intended to, and it’s awful, but it’s a blessing in a way, because now she knows the extent of Emma’s pain. She knows how badly Emma will be hurting after tonight, and she knows she’ll have to be sensitive of that and apologize for their brutal fight (or at least not say anything else quite so terrible). 

 

Emma stumbles into her and cries with a shocked little gasp, “Audrey, what are you… what are you doing here?” Police sirens wail in the background, getting ever closer, and Audrey is definitely now regretting calling 911.

 

“I— I was driving by, and I, uh…” she stammers, but thankfully the squeal of tires on gravel interrupts her as the police pull up. Her hand finds its way to Emma’s back, something in her always trying to soothe the other girl, even when Audrey herself doesn’t quite know wha to say. “It doesn’t matter,” she adds quickly as Emma’s hands fly to her temples, the way they always do when she’s about to break. “Are you okay?” 

 

“Did someone here call the police?” An officer steps out of his car, his partner following in his wake as they approach Emma’s dad.

 

_Shit._ Audrey decides that honesty is the best policy (well, at least in this case), and her hand shoots into the air as she blurts out, “I did. Um, I saw these guys fighting, and I thought my friend might be in danger.” Another police car pulls up behind them, and Audrey wonders why the police weren’t half this effective when Riley Marra was bleeding out on the rooftop of their station.

 

“You called the police?” Emma whispers, voice high and fragile. She looks like she might crack in half at any second.

 

“It was intense, and I didn’t know it was your dad,” Audrey tries to explain, but Emma just inhales sharply, clearly trying to hold back a sob as the police pull her dad aside.

 

“I—I need to get out of here,” Emma breathes, immediately turning on her heel and heading for her car. Audrey follows close behind; it can’t be safe for Emma to drive in such an emotional state. “My mom was right. You were right,” Emma confesses as they fall into a rhythm, walking side-by-side. She takes a deep breath and then adds, “I am sorry.”

 

“No, don’t apologize. I was a jerk,” Audrey insists. Half of the truth comes out before she can stop it. “I can’t explain why. None of it matters right now.” _Shit_. She probably shouldn’t have said that, but she’s always been bad at lying to Emma Duval.

 

Thankfully, Emma doesn’t seem to notice, turning around as she reaches her car door and admits, “He said that we’re the same. I don’t want to be the same.” 

 

It breaks Audrey’s heart. How can she explain to Emma, lovely, genuine, kind, _amazing_ Emma that she is so different, so vividly different from her deadbeat drunkard of a father? How will Emma ever believe her when all she does is blame herself? _And why would Emma believe a killer, anyway?_ “Emma, you’re not,” Audrey tells her, something pleading and desperate in her tone. _Please believe me. Please don’t hate yourself. Please stop blaming yourself for what others have done. For what_ I’ve _done._

 

Emma just nods slightly, frowning in that way she does when she’s trying to hold back tears, dimples so prominent that it makes Audrey’s chest ache, and gives a little snort of disbelief. “You don’t always have to rescue me,” she says.

 

_Oh, but yes I do. I wouldn’t be able to live without you._

 

That’s what Audrey wants to say. 

 

Instead, she settles for, “It’s not like I do it on purpose.”

 

Emma just chuckles and climbs into her car, looking up at her with shiny eyes as Audrey leans against the door frame. “Get home safe, okay?” What Emma doesn’t know is that’s not a request; it’s begging. _Please get home safe. Get back in one piece, live so I can see you tomorrow, so I can make it through another day knowing you’ll be alright._

 

Ugh. Her feelings are too much.

 

“Yeah, I will,” Emma promises, smiling at her in that beautiful, genuine way Audrey hasn’t seen in so long.

 

She walks away, but she wants nothing more than to stay.


	7. the aftermath

Two days later, Jake’s guts cover the shiny wood floor of the George Washington High auditorium, and Audrey’s trying to soothe a hysterical Emma in the learning center as she holds the dead boy’s cell phone in trembling hands.

 

“Oh, my God,” Emma sobs, delicate fingers immediately flying to her temples in her usual nervous habit. Something dark twists and pulls in Audrey’s stomach, her mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara as she realizes she has absolutely no idea what to say.

 

This is her fault. She should’ve called the cops, told Brooke or Emma, said _something_ the second she found Jake’s body in that storage unit. She could’ve even anonymously reported it. Maybe the killer would’ve gotten revenge on her for that, maybe she would be dead by now, but that would certainly be preferable to the bitter taste of guilt on her tongue, is definitely a more enticing option than the heartbreaking sound of Emma’s muffled weeping as Audrey pulls her into her arms in a desperate attempt at comfort.

 

She doesn’t know what else to do. _Where’s Miss Lang when you really need her?_ All she can think is to curl her fingers into Emma’s hair, smooth down the flyaways and rub a slow, soft pattern into the other girl’s shoulders, the only thing she remembers working on her best friend when they were still just that, best friends, not anything half as complicated as whatever they are now.

 

They stay there like that, just for a little bit, enough to make Audrey’s chest go so tight she can feel her lungs tearing apart. They stay like that until Kieran’s eyes go hard to the point where it makes Audrey uncomfortable, and so she lets go, maybe sooner than either of them wanted, as Emma’s eyes go a little shiny when they pull apart.

 

Then Eli announces the locker search, and all hell breaks loose, and any notion of comfort is forgotten.


	8. the threat

Things around here start to happen faster and faster, so fast that Audrey can barely process them, but all she knows is that Noah apparently loves her more than he should and the killer is so in her head now that that’s not even at the top of her “To-Be-Discussed” list.

 

She almost tells Emma. She wants to, she wants to so badly that it hurts. It eats away at her like a slow-acting acid, burning just underneath her skin and in her veins and most of all in her heart whenever Emma’s next to her. She swears her thumb will develop a permanent cramp from how often she’s left it hovering just above her phone screen lately, ready to dial Emma’s number with just a single touch. The words she might say, the confessions she might make, they’re always ringing in her ears, throbbing through her head with a painful intensity. Audrey wants to tell her, and she knows it’ll kill her if she doesn’t fess up.

 

But she can’t. She can’t, because what will Emma say? That’s a rhetorical question, of course — Audrey already knows the answer, has pictured it playing out in her mind a million times over. She’ll tell Emma, anxious tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, and Emma will just stare at her, an expression of pure hurt and anger spread across her features. Emma will stare at her like that for a little while, maybe half a minute at most, but those thirty seconds will feel like thirty days, thirty weeks, thirty _years_ to Audrey. 

 

And then she’ll whisper. She won’t scream, she won’t yell or shout — no, that’s not what Emma will do. That’s not how she is when she’s angry. Instead, she’ll whisper, disgust injected into every word, “ _Get out_.” And maybe Audrey will protest, maybe Audrey will plead for a second chance, but she’ll definitely say something back, because she’d never let Emma go that easy. 

 

And then Emma will say them. The awful words, the words that Audrey’s been scared to hear for years, the words she dreads but that she knows will eventually come. _“There is no ‘us’ anymore, Audrey. I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t even want to look at you. I can’t.”_

 

And Audrey will break.

 

She shakes the images out of her head, despite the fear that’s building in her, that she can practically smell in the air, clouding her lungs and her airways like city smog. This constant anxiety, it’s killing her, and she can’t do it anymore.

 

She’ll choose a quicker death, whether it ends up being by Emma’s hands or the killer’s, and tell her.

 

But then it’s like someone must be reading her mind, because her phone dings with a text, pulling her out of her thoughts. It’s from an unknown number, and Audrey’s heart falls into her stomach as she knows this must be yet another threat or taunt from the killer. They’ve sent her a video this time, and Audrey hits the play button, skin already covered in goosebumps.

 

It’s a video of Emma. A frame of her sleeping, so peaceful and undisturbed, as the killer brushes the hair out of her eyes and then displays a bloodied knife. Audrey’s not sure what to make of it, can feel her face screwing up in her signature expression of confusion, but then her phone rings, and her question is quickly answered.

 

“What do you want?” she bites out, phone slick in her hands.

 

“I want to see what happens when she finds out the truth,” that ugly, distorted voice practically sing-songs. Audrey swears she can hear the killer smiling.

 

She forces her eyes to squeeze shut for a second, trying to get rid of the gruesome pictures that flash before them, scenes of Emma slapping her, whispering at her to go away, rejecting her, _hating_ her. All scenes that could very soon become reality if the killer has their way. “Please don’t,” she says softly, praying that the killer can’t hear the tremble in those words.

 

“You’re not a victim, Audrey. You’re a _killer_. Remember that,” the killer snaps. “Call the cops? You’re done. Confess to Emma? It’s over. What’s left? Just me.” 

 

He hangs up before Audrey can respond, and she’s left shaking with rage, blood suddenly boiling over at the sudden realization that this killer is going to take _everything_ from her, everything she has left, everything she loves most. They already helped Piper take Rachel. They already took her dignity, her self-respect, her honesty, her happiness. And now, they’re going to take Emma.

 

And in taking Emma, they’ll also be taking her life. 

 

Her pen’s clattering to the floor before Audrey even recognizes that she’s the one who threw it. She tries to tell herself to calm down, but none of her usual tactics — silently counting to ten, thinking of happy memories, remembering her mother’s last words to her before she left — are working. “Screw you!” she yells, words left hanging in the air, addressed to someone who probably won’t even care to hear them. The killer doesn’t care what Audrey has to say; they just want her dead.

 

She almost throws her phone, something in her _craving_ the sight of shattered glass, of bent metal and a glitched-out screen. She wants a respite from the killer’s endless calls and texts, too, but Audrey hesitates, ends up just putting her arm back down because she knows the killer will get to her anyway, working phone or not. 

 

And also, she has an idea. Maybe this killer will end her for it, but at least she'll go out on her own terms.

 

Her fingers fly across the screen, dialing Emma’s number as quickly as the idea pops into her head. Emma picks up on the first ring. “Hello?” 

 

“Hey, Emma, do you want to go to the carnival with me?” The Lakewood Days Carnival. It’ll be the perfect opportunity. Audrey can end this friendship at the same place where it once blossomed. 

 

Okay, maybe that’ll make it hurt a little worse. But at least she’ll be able to get her hands on a greasy funnel cake afterwards. Or maybe she’ll get a cool death in a funhouse, courtesy of the killer. Give something Noah to podcast about, something _Morgue_ -worthy. Gotta look on the bright side, right?

 

Scratch that. Looking on the bright side isn’t possible when she knows she’s about to lose the only truly bright thing she’s ever had.


	9. the carnival

She tries to make her last moments with Emma as fun as possible. So she’ll have something to remember, something to hold onto until her own last moments, which she’s sure will come relatively quickly after her confession.

 

“Carnival of cops,” she comments as a sea of blue marches past them, heading for the Ferris Wheel. 

 

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Emma agrees.

 

“The weirdest. And, yet, also the safest place in Lakewood.” Audrey hopes her words don’t sound as hollow and forced as they do to her. She’s clutching her strip of tickets like a lifeline, already having broken out in a cold sweat several times over.

 

“Yeah,” Emma nods. “I’m glad that you decided to come,” she adds after a beat. “I know you weren’t all, ‘Rah-rah, Lakewood Days’. Why did you change your mind?”

 

Audrey flinches at the question, but Emma doesn’t seem to notice (or if she does, she doesn’t call her out on it). “I just wanted to hang out with you,” she says, choosing her words carefully. “We haven’t done anything, just the two of us, in a really long time.” It’s not really a lie — Audrey _does_ want to hang out with Emma, every second of every day actually, and in more ways than one — but it’s not the total truth, and so Audrey can’t help but feel a little bad about it. Emma will be devastated once she discovers what she’s really brought her here for.

 

“Yeah, and I mean, we’ve always done the carnival together, ever since we were little,” Emma points out, the second half of her sentence more giggle than statement as she pokes at Audrey’s shoulder. If Emma knew the secrets she was keeping, maybe she wouldn’t be so quick to touch her, Audrey thinks wistfully.

 

“Yeah. Well, you know, except for last year,” she says, immediately regretting those words when Emma’s face seems to fall a little bit.

 

“Let’s just pretend last year never happened,” Emma tells her, something almost pleading in her tone. She doesn’t have to say it twice for the words to stick in Audrey’s mind.

 

“I’m just really glad that we got over that little breakup,” Audrey admits, slowing to a stop as they reach the main area of the carnival. _This it it_ , she tries to prepare herself. _You’re going to tell her now. You have to._

 

“Yeah, me too,” Emma says, brows furrowing a little bit at Audrey’s probably slightly-over-enthusiastic expression. “What’s up?” 

 

_I can’t do it. I need more time. I’ll never have enough time, but I need more today, please, at least another hour. I just — I can’t._ Audrey resigns herself to a little more lying as she chirps, “Nothing. Okay, so what do you want to do first? Tilt-A-Whirl? Funhouse?” 

 

“Mm, funhouse, not so fun,” Emma decides. “I have a better idea.” A grin spreads across her face, dimples deepening to the point where they make Audrey’s chest physically ache, as she turns on her heel and beckons for Audrey to follow her. _Well, this oughta be good._

 

They end up playing games for a full hour and a half. Audrey wins her a giant bunny rabbit. 

 

But she never gets to tell. 


	10. the truth

Someone tells for her. 

 

Audrey’s opening the door to Emma’s room, takes a deep breath to prepare herself, because this is it. She’s going to tell Emma. She has no other choice.

 

But then she walks in to hear her own words thrown right back at her. _“I brought Piper to Lakewood”_ rings out in the air as Emma turns to face her, and Audrey’s blood goes cold. She freezes in the doorway, wind knocked out of her lungs, tasting acid on her tongue.

 

She can’t move. She can’t talk. She can’t even breathe. “I can explain,” is the first and only thing she can think to say, because what else _is there_ to say? _“Oh, yeah, sorry I told the psycho who tried to murder everyone you love to come here, and I’m also sorry that I knew she was your half-sister and didn’t tell you, and sorry I never told you about her because I didn’t even think to suspect her! Because that’s how naïve I was!”_

 

Emma just lets out a small, hurt gasp, phone clattering to the table as all she does is stare in shock at her.

 

And in that moment, Audrey wants to die.


	11. the hallway

She finds her in the school hallway the next day, angry and broken and _harsh_ , yelling at Noah like it’s his fault when really, Audrey only has herself to blame.

 

“Emma,” she says softly, the words coming out pleading and desperate, and everyone turns to face her, Kieran’s features instantly going hard, disappointment in Brooke’s eyes and disgust evident in Emma’s frown. 

 

“No,” Kieran hisses, moving to put himself between her and the girl she used to call her best friend. Like he thinks she’ll try to hurt Emma again. _Like she’d ever do that on purpose._ Still, the sight hurts so much that Audrey can’t breathe for a second, pain spiraling through her chest and cutting off her airways.

 

“No, look, I just want to—” she tries to get out, but Brooke doesn’t let her finish.

 

“Let her be,” the blonde insists, stepping next to Kieran to form a two-person barrier.

 

But Audrey can’t help it. She _needs_ to tell Emma how sorry she is, before it eats her alive, before the killer gets to her and Emma never finds out the depths of her regrets. She pushes past her former friends, running to catch up to the other girl. “Emma, I didn’t know it was Piper!” she calls out.

 

“Oh, my God, yes you did!” Emma screams, livid in a way Audrey’s never seen her before. She ends up backed against a locker, Emma in her face and so close that it hurts. “You just didn’t want people to blame you!” 

 

“That is not true!” Audrey finds herself shouting back. She’s losing control, she can feel it, she’s going crazy with how badly she wants everyone to know the truth. She’s going to completely break before she’ll ever get to prove that she’s _not_ a monster. Maybe, in the end, it’s making her so insane because she can’t even believe herself when she says it.

 

“It is. It _is_ true,” Emma snarls. “And guess what? Everyone _should_ blame you. I _blame_ you!” Before Audrey can even process what’s happening, Emma’s hands are against her shoulders, pushing and _shoving_ her into the locker. The metal digs into her skin, and Audrey knows her upper back will be bruised tomorrow — Emma’s stronger than she knows — but her sanity’s what she’s really worried about as Kieran swoops in and leads Emma away.

 

It takes a few seconds for her to really understand what’s just taken place, but once she does, tears are spilling down her cheeks, new ones dripping onto her jacket as quickly as Audrey swipes them away. A crowd’s gathered, and they’re all murmuring in shock, creating nasty rumors amongst themselves as Noah walks over and asks if she’s okay.

 

All Audrey can do is shake her head and sprint to the nearest bathroom, Noah and Brooke’s eyes on her back the entire time.


	12. the orphanage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finished the Halloween special. It was pretty good, I did enjoy it, although I have some concerns about Audrey's new relationship (not because it's not a relationship with Emma, although of course that's what I'd want, but rather because Gina seems pretty manipulative).
> 
> Anyway! Keeping that in mind, there will actually be additional chapters to this fic, chapters revolving around things that happen in the special, seeing as that's technically the end to Season 2. Once I do finish this story, unfortunately I won't be able to update until Season 3 comes out next spring, since obviously I won't have any material to work with lol. But I will be writing more original fics, so keep your eye out for those! (And this chapter isn't the end obviously haha, just wanted to make that little announcement) So so happy we're getting a Season 3!
> 
> Much love to you all. As always, thank you for reading and comments are appreciated and adored.
> 
> xo,  
> L

She hasn’t been at the party ten minutes when Emma finds her in the crowd, and Audrey can’t decide if that makes her lucky for once or if it’s just ironic.

 

She runs for two reasons. First, because the mere sight of Emma, even _thinking_ about her name, makes Audrey’s heart want to crack in half. She’s pretty sure she’s gonna snap a heartstring and drop dead sooner or later, because she can’t take much more of this, all these _things_ with Emma Duval at the center of them that keep making her feel way too much. And second, because Noah’s here, somewhere, the killer _told_ her so, and Audrey’ll be damned if she lets another person she cares about die on her watch. She has too much blood on her hands already.

 

“Audrey! Hey, stop!” Emma calls after her. It’s funny, really, how she’s chasing after her now, when this morning she’d been so eager to shove her away, so happy to let Kieran sling an arm around her shoulders and lead her off after throwing a couple verbal (and physical) punches in Audrey’s direction.

 

“Did you know about this party?” Emma demands, finally catching Audrey as she slows to a stop in one particularly dingy room.

 

“No, no,” Audrey says, the words tumbling out of her mouth and sounding slurred in her haste to get them out. God forbid Emma blame her for anything else, especially something that’s not even true.

 

“Okay,” Emma sighs out, hands running through her hair, that nervous tic she’s always had. “Look, someone set it up to make it look like we planned this,” she adds after a beat. “You and me.” 

 

“Okay, then it was probably the killer,” Audrey retorts. It should be obvious, shouldn’t it? This killer has been all about making Audrey’s life miserable, and though Emma doesn’t know the full extent of that, she should be able to connect a few dots. Then again, maybe Emma doesn’t realize the full irony of this — the two people who feel the most intensely about each other (Emma’s choice feeling being intense hatred, of course, whereas Audrey’s is something else she can’t quite describe), thrown together by a killer who wants them both to look equally guilty.

 

“I know!” Emma snaps. “That’s what I’m _trying_ to tell you. He led me here.” 

 

Audrey can’t even focus on her. Her body’s leading her on a frantic survey of the room, checking every nook and cranny and corner, desperately searching for anything that might clue her in to the whereabouts of the one person she has left. Something in her must have already accepted that she and Emma are done, too, cuz she’s not even _trying_ to look in Emma’s direction (not that she could bear to, anyway). “Did Noah come with you? Is he here?” she stammers out.

 

“Yeah, he’s here with Zoe,” Emma replies, an undercurrent of suspicion in her tone. “Why?” 

 

“The killer just called me,” Audrey blurts out. “Noah’s his next target.” Emma’s standing next to her now, and they’re closer than they’ve been in a while without meaning to, really. Audrey misses that, the unintentional drifts each other’s way, like their bodies just _know_ that they’re meant to be near each other. Now, Emma probably can’t even stand to be in the same room as her. It’s probably _killing_ her to even have to talk to Audrey.

 

Audrey hates that.

 

The lights suddenly go out, and they both scramble for their phones, Audrey letting out a tiny sigh of relief when the flashlight kicks in on hers. She can’t handle the dark anymore, not since that _dark_ October night when Piper Shaw’s body hit the cold Wren Lake waters.

 

“This is not good. We _need_ to find Noah,” she grits out, flashlight dancing around the walls as her hands shake a little more than she’d care to admit.

 

“This is fine. This means Zoe and Noah are still alive,” Emma says. “They were gonna try and figure out a way to turn off the lights and stop the party.” 

 

“Okay, then we need to _find_ him. We need to get him _out_ of here,” Audrey insists, that awful, building feeling of desperation clawing its way into her tone and making her voice go all high and tight.

 

“I _know_ that!” Emma shouts.

 

Audrey’s stunned for a second. Emma’s never shouted at her before — well, at least not before this morning — and she guesses it signals a real end in their friendship. They’re really, truly _done. Emma hates me_ , she thinks, and suddenly, she has the overwhelming urge to cry. To cry for what she’s lost, and to cry for what she might lose ( _Noah_ ) if she doesn’t find it soon enough.

 

But she doesn’t cry. Instead, her hands slap against her thighs in defeat as she finds herself just staring at Emma for a second, before the biting response comes out. “Did the killer just do this because—”

 

“Because you’re the _last_ person I want to be stuck with right now?” Emma cuts in, words sharp like knives.

 

“Yes!” Audrey hisses back, the anger in her voice covering the hurt that _really_ wants to come out.

 

“Yeah, probably,” Emma snarls. Audrey wants to respond to that, but she doesn’t know what to say — and she doesn’t have to figure that out, because their phones almost immediately both chime with a text.

 

It’s part of a group text, Emma and an unknown number that’s certainly the killer. Audrey’s frozen, mouth dry and hands slick against her phone as she reads it. _Better get upstairs before your better half rots._

 

Emma breathes, “Kieran,” and normally Audrey would take the time to evaluate all the different ways that breaks her heart, but in this moment, all she can think is, _Noah_ , and that’s exactly what she cries out as she sprints out of the room and in the direction of the nearest staircase. 

 

The all-too-familiar sickly sweet stench of death fills the air the second they get upstairs, and Audrey’s never been more thankful to see a dead body before as she and Emma round the corner and find Piper there.

 

It’s not okay. Nothing’s okay. But it’s not Noah, so for right now, it’s okay. 

 

( _But it’s really, really not._ )


	13. the blame

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, Emma so close but so far away on the stoop of this ugly old orphanage. “That this — all of this — is my fault. And you’re right. It is. I know that. And the killer knows that. He’s throwing Piper’s dead body in my face.” 

 

Emma doesn’t acknowledge that it’s Audrey’s fault, and Audrey isn’t sure if it would hurt more to hear a pretty lie ( _no, of course I don’t blame you, Audrey, I was just angry_ ) or an ugly truth, but she just wants Emma to _say something_ about it. But Emma doesn’t, just murmurs, “The killer wanted us to find Piper’s body together… because we both killed Piper. And now, he wants revenge on both of us.” 

 

Sheriff Acosta comes over, and Audrey doesn’t get to say anything else.

 

They find Haley hanging on a crucifix.


	14. the attempt

By some sheer stroke of luck, she manages to beg and plead enough to get Emma to finally come to her place the next day. So she can explain. So she can really, truly apologize. And so she can maybe, just maybe, at least let them end things on a better note.

 

Emma’s surveying the room, fingers grazing against random objects here and there, the new things that Audrey’s added since freshman year. Her eyes particularly linger on the goofy picture of them that Audrey’s pinned to her board, like Emma somehow knows that’s the image that gets Audrey out of bed in the morning, like something in it screams, _Yup, this is Audrey’s motivation to keep going, right here._

 

“I haven’t been in your room in a while. It’s changed,” Emma says, breaking the heavy silence that’s filled the air. Her voice is kind of thick, but Audrey glances up at her, she doesn’t see any tears on Emma’s face, just a look of bittersweet nostalgia.

 

“Yeah,” she whispers. The distance between them really isn’t that much, just a foot or two at most, Emma standing by the dresser and Audrey perched on the edge of her bed, but it feels like they’re universes apart. Two years ago, the two of them in this room would have formed a very different picture — the both of them curled up under Audrey’s bedspread, maybe watching a crappy rom-com on Netflix, or Emma sitting criss-cross on the floor, Audrey right next to her, laughing as she tried on five different colors of her mother’s lipstick.

 

The stark contrast of the two scenes would be heartbreaking to anyone, but of course it’s the worst kind of pain for Audrey. 

 

“After last night, I need answers about Piper,” Emma tells her. “This is about us, and it’s about her, and you can’t keep things from me anymore.” 

 

“I get it,” Audrey says honestly, still staring at the floor. She’s not sure if it’s shame or sadness or maybe a little bit of both, but something in her won’t allow her to meet Emma’s eyes right now. She clears her throat, hoping to dissipate the hard lump of tears that’s been there since last night, and starts, “Okay, uh… Think of this as your own personal Audrey Jensen AMA. Do your worst.” _Emma won’t know what an AMA is, idiot_ , she silently screams at herself. _She’s probably never even heard of Reddit, not with Brooke and Nina always on her tail._

 

The deep intake of breath that Emma takes looks like it physically hurts her. “Okay. So… you knew that Piper was my half-sister the whole time that she was here in Lakewood?” 

 

“Yeah.” Audrey’s already starting to regret this impromptu Q&A session.

 

“And last year, when I started to think that the killer was probably my half-sibling, why didn’t you say anything?” Emma demands.

 

Audrey wishes she could give her a better answer, something more solid and more logical, but all she can give right now is the truth. “I never, in a million years, thought she could be the killer. And she swore to me she wasn’t.” 

 

“And knowing what you knew, that was good enough for you?” Emma snaps, the disbelief evident in her tone. Audrey can’t blame her for being incredulous.

 

“No, no, she and I…” Audrey tries to reply to that, but suddenly she can’t find the words. _You were so naïve,_ she realizes. _You were naïve, and you were gullible, and you were dumb, and now no one’s ever gonna believe you. Not Emma. Not_ anyone.

 

The quiet speaks better for Audrey than she does, and Emma lets out a little scoff. “The night Rachel died, I was with Piper,” Audrey admits, the answer finally coming to her mind. “We were up late at the Crescent Palms Motel, going over Brandon James stuff, and… I mean, if she didn’t kill Rachel, how could she be the killer? And… And I thought she was my friend.” That last sentence hurts more than anything, because Emma now knows it, the awful, aching truth. Audrey had been so lonely, so bitter and dark and desperate, that she’d exchanged letters with a twenty-something reporter and _somehow_ hadn’t thought it suspicious when bodies immediately started dropping the second said reporter showed up. Because she’d been stupid. Because she’d been naïve. Because she’d been _alone_.

 

“Okay. Okay, so you were with Piper,” Emma repeats.

 

“Yes.”

 

“How do I know that you’re not lying right now?” The accusation stings, and Audrey physically flinches at it, her entire body wanting to crawl up inside itself right now and never come out. _Just disappear._

 

“I would never use Rachel in a lie,” Audrey insists, anger and hurt swirling together to form a bitter taste on her tongue.

 

“I don’t know that after everything that you’ve done,” Emma bites back.

 

“You know me,” Audrey protests, standing up so they’re face-to-face. The anger is winning over the hurt right now, and she knows if she doesn’t calm down, things are going to get nasty.

 

“No. I knew you,” Emma says shakily, taking a step back from Audrey and making her chest ache in the process. “We were best friends, and then we drifted apart.”

 

“That’s one way to say it,” Audrey interrupts.

 

“And then, you brought Piper here to get back at me,” Emma says firmly, ignoring Audrey’s cry of _no_. “Even if you didn’t know that she was a psycho, you were still trying to do that to hurt me.”

 

_You don’t understand, Emma, you don’t_ understand, is what Audrey wants to scream, but all she finds herself saying is, “No! No, I wasn’t!” 

 

“Yes, you were! Why else would you bring her here?” Emma cries, and _oh_ she definitely does not understand. Because Emma doesn’t get it, doesn’t get the raw pain that sliced through Audrey every day of every week when she’d see her, in the school hallway or at the Grindhouse or on the sidewalk. She doesn’t get the feeling of loneliness when you’re in a room full of people, doesn’t comprehend the permanent abandonment issues that her brand of “drifting apart” will leave you with. She just doesn’t _understand_ , and it’s becoming very clear that maybe Audrey will never be able to _make_ her understand. Audrey wasn’t trying to hurt her with the letters to Piper, even as bitter and nasty and accusatory as they were, but even if she had been, Emma _still_ wouldn’t understand why. 

 

“I wanted to make a documentary about Brandon James,” Audrey tries to explain to her. “This was not _about_ you, Emma. It was about Lakewood and hypocrisy.” 

 

“And I was just collateral damage?” Emma retorts. Audrey can tell she’s hurt by the tremble in her voice, but what else is there to say? _Everything I do seems to be hurting you lately, Emma, and I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am._

 

“Oh, my God,” Emma breathes when Audrey doesn’t respond. She pinches at the bridge of her nose, hands rubbing at her temples, before she adds, “Audrey, this is your last chance, okay? Tell me the truth. Stop lying, stop covering. We need to be on the same side right now, and I am _definitely_ not on your side.” 

 

Physical pain blooms in Audrey’s lungs at that, every breath hurting a little bit as she processes Emma’s words. They bring on memories, so many flashbacks of when they _were_ on the same side, in playground games and PE competitions and any fight Nina and her group tried to start. And now, they haven’t been on the same side in _years_. There’s been a divide between them ever since Nina welcomed Emma into her little posse, even if it definitely seemed a lot smaller back when Piper’s blood spattered the dock at Wren Lake.

 

“I don’t know what else to say,” Audrey admits. It’s the truth, nothing _but_ the truth, and maybe Emma just isn’t able to accept it, but it’s the _truth_ , dammit, and she has nothing else to say.

 

Emma inhales deeply, disappointment clear in her eyes, and murmurs, “Okay.” She barely gives Audrey a second to breathe before she finishes, “This was a horrible idea,” and storms out of the room like she hasn’t just shattered everything in the room around her.

 

Including Audrey. 


	15. the disappearance

Just because something is broken doesn’t mean it won’t still work. And that’s how Audrey’s internal Emma compass still manages to find the other girl in the school hallway, shattered as they both are, when Noah misses class.

 

“Noah wasn’t in class today, and he hasn’t been answering any of my calls,” she says as she jogs up to Emma. “I’m really starting to freak out.” 

 

Emma doesn’t look half as concerned as she should be. “I haven’t seen him. Have you talked to him at all?”

 

“No, that’s the thing. I know that he was annoyed with me yesterday about the Zoe thing, but…” Audrey’s cut off by the vibrating of her phone in her back pocket, just as Emma’s phone dings with an incoming text, too. The same sense of dread that she felt back at the orphanage last night instantly spreads through her entire body, nausea rolling over her in waves as she pulls out her phone and quickly scans the killer’s latest text: a hyperlink that says “CLICK HERE”.

 

They both click on it at the same time, and Audrey almost drops her phone when the video pops up on the screen: Noah, bloody and pale, locked somewhere that she worries could be far, far away from Lakewood. “He’s got Noah,” she breathes as Emma mutters her own exclamation of shock.

 

“Wait, can you tell where he is?” Emma asks as Audrey holds the screen up closer, searching desperately for any clue to his whereabouts.

 

They don’t have to wait long to find out. Audrey’s phone starts to ring, and she fights the bile rising in her throat as she answers the call. “How are my favorite final girls?” the killer sneers on the other end of the phone, distorted voice ringing out in the hallway. Audrey and Emma both glance at the students walking from class to class, and Audrey prays nobody’s heard them — she knows Noah will pay the price if they have.

 

“If you hurt Noah, I will come for you,” she snarls into the phone. Emma grasps for it, trying to keep her out of trouble like always, but Audrey can’t pause to reflect on old memories right now. Noah’s at stake.

 

“Any more threats, and I light his coffin on fire and let _you_ watch him burn,” the killer hisses.

 

“Where is he?” Emma demands, voice high and thin.

 

“You’re gonna go on a little treasure hunt. _If_ you tell anyone, cops, friends, strangers in a school hallway, Noah dies.” Audrey feels like she can barely breathe as her eyes dart around the hallway, searching for anyone who might overhear their conversation. The kids from earlier seem to have disappeared into their classrooms, but there’s no telling who’s listening at George Washington.

 

“This is about us. It isn’t about Noah,” Emma says lowly, grabbing the phone from Audrey. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Because it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?” the killer simpers. Next to her, Emma gasps quietly, like she’s struggling to get in a decent breath. Audrey knows the feeling. “If you follow my clues, maybe you can save Noah’s life,” the killer adds. “He has, oh, about five hours of air left. Clock’s-a-ticking.” 

 

“Come on, come on,” Emma urges her, and then they’re sprinting out of the school like their lives depend on it.

 

Only it’s not their lives at stake this time. It’s Noah’s.


	16. the eureka

 

 

Before, Audrey had thought the worst feeling in the world was probably either being told your mother had Stage IV breast cancer, or watching as your best friend slowly cut you out of her life.

 

Now, she knows, the worst feeling in the world is actually watching your other best friend die before your eyes.

 

She’s staring at the live feed on her cell phone, both entranced and terrified by the image of a coughing, wheezing Noah gasping for air. Audrey’s never felt so helpless. “What are the clues? What is he talking about?” she snarls. Emma’s in the driver’s seat, since Audrey’s so furious she’s not sure she can handle that kind of responsibility right now, but they’re not going anywhere, just sitting in the car and desperately trying to brainstorm. But it’s not working, they have no idea what the killer is talking about, and so Noah is dying before Audrey’s eyes. And that makes her wish _she_ was the one in that coffin.

 

“We _have_ to call Sheriff Acosta. He could keep it quiet,” Emma insists.

 

“No, okay? No. Absolutely not! We do that and Noah’s dead.” Audrey doesn’t mean to sound so angry, and she knows Emma’s going to take her furious tone personally, but her fury’s not directed at Emma. It’s directed at the killer, for putting Noah in that coffin, and also at herself, for dragging Noah and _everyone_ , really, into this whole awful situation. He wouldn’t be in there if she hadn’t brought Piper to Lakewood — but she did, and so here they are, him suffocating in a coffin somewhere and her on the verge of tears in Emma Duval’s sedan.

 

“How is this psycho gonna know if we call him?” Emma asks, voice bordering on hysterical.

 

“Maybe he hacked our phones, I don’t know. He seemed to know we were together when he called,” Audrey points out. 

 

“Audrey, we cannot do this,” Emma starts.

 

“No, absolutely _not_ , okay? We can’t risk it!” Audrey cuts in. “You don’t get it! This is how he works. I tried to cheat him before and he made me pay. He killed a hotel clerk just to prove a point! He will _one hundred percent_ kill Noah if we cross him. The only chance we have is to play his game.” 

 

“Okay. Where do we start?” Emma says tightly, lips drawn thin.

 

Before Audrey even has a second to stare at her in utter despair, her phone vibrates with another text. _Noah thought he had all the answers. Better find where he went wrong_ , the new message from the killer reads. “Where he went wrong? How do we figure that out?” Emma mutters. 

 

“‘He thought he had all the answers,’” Audrey reads. “Okay, maybe he was getting too close? How are we supposed to know what he’s thinking?” Anger creeps into her voice again, the sheer intensity of her terror for Noah clawing away at her. She feels like she’s gonna burst out of her skin if she doesn’t throw something soon, or find Noah.

 

They’re silent for a second, and then Emma takes in a sharp breath, her typical sign of a quintessential _eureka_ moment. “We know where his answers are,” she says, starting the car and buckling her seatbelt. “His murder board.” 

 

Audrey buckles her seatbelt, too, because at this point, she has no other choice but to trust Emma. Normally, that’s not a hard thing to do — it’s not difficult to convince Audrey to put her life in Emma’s hands, she pretty much always has. But to put Noah’s life in Emma’s hands? That’s an entirely different matter. They’re not the same anymore; they can’t go five minutes without arguing these days.

 

But the killer’s got them cornered, and if they want Noah to survive, Audrey realizes, all talk of arguments and differences will have to fall away. They’re going to have to work together. As a _team_.

 

And if that’s really true, then they may not be able to save Noah.

 


	17. the daffodil

Noah’s mom’s not home, thank god, and Audrey shoves the key into the door with shaking hands, trembling with nervous energy as she and Emma take the stairs two at a time and burst into his bedroom.

 

Their eyes immediately land on the murder board, the black and white piece of paper tacked to the center quickly grabbing Audrey’s attention. “Hey, check it out, we’re in the right place,” she says as she rushes over to search Noah’s desk. 

 

“Wait, what is Noah’s obsession?” Emma asks, right behind her as Audrey scans every bit of Noah’s messy room for a potential clue. This area of the Foster house might be disorganized, but Audrey knows it like the back of her hand, has been here too many times to count and will freely admit that Noah’s room has basically been her safe place ever since Emma left her needing one.

 

“The murders? Brandon James? _The Morgue_? I don’t know, Noah is an obsessive nerd by nature,” Audrey snaps, frustration quickly building in her again as she realizes absolutely nothing in Noah’s room is out of place. The killer presumably doesn’t know Noah’s careful system of organized chaos, and so anyone coming in here would likely leave some kind of trace, maybe a book that’s askew or a splayed-open comic book. But Audrey can’t find a damn thing.

 

“Maybe it’s this. Maybe it’s on the murder board,” Emma suggests. _Why are you just standing there?_ Audrey wonders, heart pounding at a certainly-unhealthy pace. _I’m aware you only bothered to get to know Noah after half of Nina’s posse was dead, but you could at least try to help out._ Instantly, she regrets the bitter words racing through her mind. This isn’t Emma’s fault, and her silent anger shouldn’t be directed at her. Still, there’s a part of Audrey that can’t help it, this feeling of awful helplessness aching to consume her.

 

“We’re supposed to find where he went wrong,” Audrey points out, voice rising as she reaches her breaking point. “How do we do that? There’s too much here! It’s impossible.”

 

“Maybe his obsession blinded him to the truth, and _that is_ where he went wrong,” Emma says, still staring at the murder board like it’s gospel. Audrey sits down in Noah’s computer chair, praying that maybe the stainless steel lamp will reveal a fingerprint or his laptop will show signs of a hack. _Nope. Nothing._

 

“I’m so sick of these cryptic clues. Maybe it’s in his podcast?” Audrey thinks out loud as she enters Noah’s password ( _icanseeourstars_ , Riley’s last words to him — a little macabre, in Audrey’s opinion, but she’s not in any place to judge) and clicks on _The Morgue_ ’s file on his desktop. She hears the rustle of paper in the background as Emma grabs something off of the murder board, but doesn’t think twice about it, is too focused on her hasty search of Noah’s laptop to care.

 

When she doesn’t find anything, she ends up slamming her hand against the table, snarling, “Damn it! I’m not seeing anything!” Emma startles at the loud sound, and guilt instantly sours in Audrey’s stomach. She turns to see Emma folding a piece of paper up, and asks, “What’d you find?” 

 

“Nothing,” Emma replies quickly, and normally Audrey would take the time to stop and ask why she’s lying (because it’s _so_ obvious that she is), but today, time is the one thing they don’t have and also the one thing they need most, so she lets it go for now.

 

“What’s behind Noah’s obsession?” she repeats to herself, leaning back in Noah’s chair and just staring at the screen of his computer. She can feel angry tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, and it makes her furious. “I don’t know! Insomnia and too much caffeine?” 

 

“Are we really gonna find Noah this way?” Emma says thickly. Audrey can hear the edge of desperation in her voice. “I mean, we are clearly missing something!” 

 

“Maybe it’s a riddle.” 

 

“What is Noah’s obsession?” Emma mumbles. “The murder board. The board. What’s behind…” She lets out a gasp, and Audrey turns instantly towards the other girl, only to find her staring at the murder board with that same _eureka_ look from earlier on her face. “Oh, my God, it’s literal,” Emma cries out, hurrying over to the board. “What is behind the board?” 

 

Audrey jumps up to help, and her fingers accidentally brush against Emma’s as they move the board so Emma can grab whatever’s behind it. She hears the crunch of plastic as Emma’s hand grasps something, and Audrey’s blood runs cold when she sees what it is. A pressed daffodil, encased in Ziploc, lies in Emma’s hand. 

 

“Wow, this really is about us,” she murmurs, taking the bag from Emma’s hands and tracing the daffodil with her fingers. It brings back so many memories that Audrey can barely even process what this means.

 

“What do you mean? It’s a daffodil,” Emma says incredulously. That hurts more than she’ll ever know, and Audrey prays she hasn’t really forgotten, that she’s just lost the memory in their temporary panic over Noah.

 

“Yeah, don’t you remember?” she asks. She waits a beat, gives Emma a second to respond, but in the heart-shattering silence that follows, she quickly realizes that Emma traded daffodils for roses a long time ago. “I think I know where to go,” she says simply, trading the pain in her chest for the pain of her feet pounding against the wood floor as she runs to find the only person she’s ever really had.


	18. the drive

The drive to the stables is not only painstakingly long (Audrey spends just about every second thinking of Noah), it’s also incredibly awkward. Emma feels guilty for not remembering the daffodils — Audrey can tell in the way she keeps biting her lip and grips the steering wheel till her knuckles turn white. Emma punishes herself when she feels she’s at fault, and those are classic Emma signs of a girl in need of absolution for her crimes.

 

Audrey wants to absolve her, but she doesn’t know if Emma would let her.

 

“Are you sure the old stables is where we’re supposed to go?” Emma finally asks, lips gone bright pink from where she’s been biting them.

 

“Yeah,” Audrey insists, childhood memories flashing before her eyes. “Those daffodils grew all around the old barn. They made a _big_ point of telling us they were poisonous to the horses.” The old times, when their friendship was pure and not spattered with blood and guilt and lies, seem to fill up the space between them, wrapping around the two in a way that’s comforting to Audrey but is probably more like suffocating to Emma.

 

Emma doesn’t quite get the sentimentality of it all, and it’s obvious in the way she stiffens and says sharply, “Yeah, no, I remember that, but how would the killer know that? How would he know that a daffodil would send us there? Flowers grow a lot of places.”

 

Audrey flinches at that. Flowers grow a lot of places, that’s true, but doesn’t Emma remember? Did her booze-filled weekends with Nina, Brooke, and Riley make her forget the way that she used to put daffodils in her hair, and the way that Audrey’s tears made those daffodils shine when her mom got the diagnosis? Did her time spent warding off Will, Tyler, and Jake’s crude jokes make her forget the way that they used to tell each over everything over those daffodils, and the way that Emma used to bring them to Show & Tell at school so everyone would know about her and Audrey’s “special place”?

 

_Flowers grow a lot of places_. That statement makes what they had seem all too common, and maybe Emma’s forgotten how special it really was, but Audrey knows she never will. It hurts, though, to think that Emma could have thrown it all away so easily.

 

“You said it yourself,” she replies with a shrug of her shoulders. Like this is all so simple, when it couldn’t be farther from that. “This is about us. And that’s where we first met. I’m sure that this is it.” 

 

“Okay, but what is he trying to do?” Emma presses. “Why is he sending us there?” It’s frustrating, even though Audrey knows Emma means well, but she really just wants to snap, _I don’t know, maybe because even this killer has a better memory of our friendship than you do? Maybe because they want to remind you of what we lost once and what we’re now going to lose again?_

 

“Whoever’s doing this is screwing with us,” Audrey tells her. “Sending us to a place we used to love, trying to ruin it… It’s important to them because it’s important to us.” _Or, at least, one of us._

 

Emma stays silent, mouth drawn thin, and Audrey doesn’t know what else to do. So she rambles. “When my mom got sick, it was the only place where I felt okay, the only place I could forget what was going on,” she confesses, voice softer now as the bittersweet memories throb in her head.

 

“Yeah,” Emma murmurs. “We used to go to the stables even after they shut them down. Play outside. Pretend to be elves traveling across Middle-Earth.” Audrey knows she’s staring, but she can’t help it, even as a small smile spreads across her features, a smile that she’d normally hide for fear of looking vulnerable, but — but it’s Emma, dammit, she’s always been vulnerable with her. Emma’s just finally _reminiscing_ , and it’s so good to hear her do that. She hasn’t allowed herself to in a long while.

 

“We were so close back then,” Emma continues. Something hard and steely is edging into her tone, and Audrey doesn’t like it, wishes she could take away her smile and just pretend none of this ever happened. “Basically family. Then, a couple years later, you tried to destroy us.” Audrey’s eyes instantly go from Emma to the window as she blinks back tears. Emma may have her occasional moments of nostalgia, but she’s finally coming to the realization that Emma will never forgive her. Not for this. Not this time. And honestly, Audrey hates herself so much for it that she can’t even blame her.

 

“What did I do to make you hate me so much?” Emma asks, voice suddenly gone raw as she turns to look at Audrey. 

 

There’s a reason for it, actually. But Audrey can’t bring herself to say it. She’s never admitted it to Noah, she can’t even admit it to herself in private, so of course she can’t tell Emma. So she dodges the question. “Like I said, it wasn’t about you guys.” Emma glances over at her, clearly hoping for a clue in her expression, but Audrey stares straight ahead, desperately wishing for this car ride to be over.

 

Emma can’t accept that, though. She takes a hand off the wheel to dig around in her back pocket for a second and presents a folded piece of paper to Audrey. “I already read it,” she says icily as Audrey unfolds it. “It really cleared up some things.” Nauseating fear coils in Audrey’s stomach as she finishes opening the paper. It’s a photo copy of one of her letters to Piper, the page where she ranted about Emma’s new personality and what a bitch she’d become.

 

_God, I wish I could take that all back._ “Emma, this isn’t—” she starts, but Emma doesn’t let her finish. Hurt and anger have taken over logic, and it’s a far too familiar feeling these days.

 

“Just don’t,” she snaps. 

 

There’s a lot Audrey could say, in this moment. Maybe _“I’m sorry_ ” _,_ or _“You’re right to hate me,”_ perhaps even _“No, I need to explain_ ”. But she doesn’t say any of that. She doesn’t say anything at all, actually. Instead, she lets utter despair take over, white-hot pain blooming in her chest, as her head slumps against the seat and she trains her eyes on the landscape zooming by.

 

She can’t fix this now.


	19. the confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that iconic emrey moment. hope i did it at least some justice.

Twenty minutes later, they’re conducting a desperate search for Noah’s coffin, and Audrey can’t find anything at all. She’s worried, but fear’s not the only emotion threatening to consume her right now. Like everything else involving Emma, there’s so much more to it than that.

 

“Hey, did you find anything?” Emma asks as she sprints back into the barn.

 

“No, there’s nothing out there. He’s got to be inside,” she insists, eyes scanning every part of their surroundings for some kind of clue.

 

“I already looked in here, there’s nothing _in_ here,” Emma says loudly. 

 

“Look again!” Audrey’s yelling, in spite of herself, but she can’t help it. Her frustration is mounting with every second that passes. She has no idea if this moment could be Noah’s last breath, or the next, or the one after that, but it’s killing her inside, and their apparent inability to find anything isn’t helping.

 

“Do _not_ put this on me!” Emma snarls.

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” she snaps.

 

“Nothing.” Emma throws up her hands and walks away, but Audrey’s not letting her do that, not with that kind of vague statement. Emma knows how she _hates_ vagueness.

 

“Nothing?” she cries indignantly. “No, no, no, _I_ didn’t do this!”

 

“You brought this down on _all_ of us!” Emma spits. “ _You_ brought Piper here!” They’re face-to-face now, and normally Audrey would appreciate the closeness, but their mutual anger is so intense she fears it might actually bring them both down with it. “And why?” Emma continues, voice rising with every word. “What did I do to you?”

 

“I was pissed, okay?” Audrey hisses. “I was pissed! You had your new friends and you _abandoned_ me.” She can feel the truth coming out of her, and she tries to tamp it down, but her emotions are too heightened and this situation far too fragile for her to be able to control that. Emma’s going to find out, Audrey can sense it, and she’s absolutely terrified.

 

“You wanted nothing to do with them!” Emma shrieks.

 

“Whatever!” Audrey tries to put some distance between her and the other girl, but Emma just keeps closing the space, the two of them pacing each other like predators facing off in the wild. 

 

“No, not whatever! Why did you hate me? What did I do to you?” Emma demands.

 

“You really want to know right now?” _Please, don’t push it any further. Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask—_

 

“Yes, I really want to know,” Emma says angrily, like Audrey shouldn’t even have dared to ask the question. “Why did you hate me?” 

 

Audrey doesn’t want to tell her, but she’s scared and tired and hurt. So it does. It comes out. “You broke my heart.” 

 

_No. Oh no oh no ohnoohno—_

 

She didn’t mean to say that. Emma’s lip quivers, eyes wide with shock as she steps back and processes the information, and Audrey wishes she’d just kept quiet, wishes she’d just control herself better for _once_ _in her goddamn life._

 

She exhales shakily, more of the truth spilling from her lips before she can stop it. “I loved you, okay? And you broke my heart,” she says softly. Emma just stares at her, mouth gaping, and that almost hurts worse than the actual heartbreak. “And the worst part is, you didn’t even know you were doing it,” she adds quietly, turning away from the love that will always haunt her, even if she hadn’t known it for so long.

 

There’s silence for a moment, and that moment feels like a million years in one heartbeat. Emma doesn’t have anything to say, and Audrey knows that’s because the other girl just doesn’t want to hurt her, maybe is scared of her and doesn’t want to provoke another outburst of anger with an unsatisfactory response. That kills her inside.

 

The silence is broken by faint, muffled singing. At first, it’s an unwelcome distraction, but it quickly becomes the most beautiful sound Audrey’s ever heard, because that singing turns out to be Noah. 

 

They find him, bleeding and pale, and minutes later, they find Zoe Vaughn’s blank-eyed corpse. And suddenly, Audrey has a lot of apologies to make. Apologies to Zoe, for being so possessive at times. Apologies to Noah, for not finding them both in time. Apologies to Emma, apologies to herself, apologies to the world.

 

Apologies are not half as tricky as confessions, however. Because the trickiest part of confessions is that the people you’re making them to don’t always want to hear them. Everybody wants an apology, whether they admit it or not. But confessions are typically unwanted, and they almost always bring up the elephant in the room, the subject that no one ever wants to talk about.

 

Audrey’s had that theory for a while. And Emma certainly proves it to be true.

 

Because guess what?

 

They don’t ever talk about it.


	20. the defeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanted to add a little bit of noah in here because, well, he's just as important to audrey as emma, just in a different way, and i think his struggle after zoe's death was definitely a big deal to her.

Audrey doesn’t have time to focus on her minor (okay, maybe not-so-minor) heartbreak with Noah in the hospital. _Noah needs me_ becomes her constant mantra. When she’s in English, and her phone buzzes with a text from him. _Sorry, Ms. Asher, I gotta go — Noah needs me._ When she runs home just to grab one of his favorite comics that he left in her room, and her dad asks why she’s barely been around the past two days. _Sorry, Dad — Noah needs me._ Even when she’s alone, and she thinks of one minor thing that Noah might want to have with him in his hospital room. _Better grab that — Noah needs me._

 

It’s easier, honestly, to focus on Noah’s needs rather than her own. Maybe everyone is doing that, because the second morning after Zoe’s death, Brooke, Kieran, and Emma all crowd into Noah’s room when Audrey hasn’t even been there five minutes. 

 

Her knees are sore from kneeling by his bed so often lately, and she winces as she scrambles to her feet to meet the trio as Emma says, “Hey!” Brooke is, of course, wearing black — whether that’s for fashion purposes, supporting-Noah purposes, or her own grief, Audrey’s not sure. She knows Brooke and Zoe had some semblance of a friendship, but she’s not certain of how close they ever got. Regardless, Brooke and Noah have developed some sort of weird bond over losing their significant others in the past few days, and so Audrey knows that Brooke’s sympathy for Noah is completely genuine.

 

“Hey. Hey, guys,” she stammers out, Emma’s presence throwing her off as always. 

 

“How you doing?” Emma asks Noah. He’s silent and blank-faced, and Audrey kind of wishes she’d had a few seconds before they all came in to explain that Noah hasn’t really improved (at least mentally) since they last saw him. She hopes that Noah’s quiet doesn’t scare Emma, but then she remembers that they’re all used to dealing with traumatized people, have been ever since Piper came to town, so maybe this isn’t all that strange for Emma and the rest of them. 

 

Emma takes it well, just turns to Audrey and says, “I, um… I got you a coffee.” Audrey immediately takes it, grateful for the warmth of the cup (hospitals are always so _cold_ , she’s known this ever since her mom got sick). “And I got you a mocha, coconut, extra shot, right?” Emma continues, smiling at Noah and holding out a coffee to him.

 

“I can only have clear fluids,” Noah mumbles. 

 

“Right. Right. Sorry,” Emma says hastily. Audrey can see from the other side of the bed that her hands are shaking. She wonders if it’s from the flashbacks that being in this hospital must bring on, memories of her own mental breakdown after Will’s gruesome death, or maybe it’s just because she’s embarrassed that she forgot about the clear fluids thing. Audrey should’ve known that Emma would try to do something kind like this, really. Probably would’ve been a good idea to text her and remind her of what Noah can and can’t have, but she’s been so busy just making sure he’s alive (and that he _wants_ to be alive) that she’s barely even touched her phone in the past forty-eight hours.

 

“Um, we, uh… we downloaded a bunch of movies to watch,” Brooke tries, handing Noah her purple-covered iPad. “All your creepy faves!” Noah’s lip starts to quiver, and Audrey’s hand is instantly on his shoulder, rubbing in what she hopes is a soothing way. Touch has been a, well, _touchy_ thing for Noah recently, but her touch seems to be the only one he won’t flinch away from.

 

“ _Psycho_ , _Night of the Living Dead_ , _It Follows_ ,” Kieran adds. 

 

“I don’t want to watch any of that,” Noah cuts in, voice thin and hollow. They all exchange uncomfortable glances, Audrey throwing a slight shrug their way. Noah’s reactions to things can be unpredictable, and she hadn’t realized that horror movies might be a trigger for him when Brooke had texted asking what his favorites were.

 

Her hand trails down to the sleeve of his hospital gown, playing with the edge of it, as Noah says, “Zoe said it. I turn death into a puzzle I can solve instead of dealing with my feelings. I missed out on so much… obsessing on slasher logic, playing detective. I’m done with all of that.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Brooke whispers. 

 

“I’m done with my murder obsession and everything that goes with it,” Noah declares. “I’m shutting down _The Morgue_.” It breaks Audrey’s heart to hear that, but it’s not as much of a surprise to her as it is to the others. Noah’s been muttering about it a lot lately, bits and pieces of regrets and a newfound hatred for his podcast and everything surrounding it, although he hadn’t made his decision official until just now.

 

“No, we can’t give up, Noah,” Kieran insists. 

 

“Why not? He _wins_ every game.” There’s silence for a moment, nobody knowing quite what to say, until Noah continues, “I told my mom you guys would go over and take down the murder board and pack up everything that goes with it.” 

 

The atmosphere is absolutely crushing, Noah’s brokenness leaving them _all_ feeling broken, but it’s only amplified by Emma’s eyes on her, searching for her gaze as they all process what has just been said. They lock eyes, both finding the other equally shocked as Noah hisses, “I don’t want to see any of that stuff ever again.” 

 

Emma’s hand rubs at Noah’s other shoulder as she murmurs, “Yeah. Of course, Noah. Whatever you need.” But that sounds more like a reassurance than a promise as Emma’s eyes meet hers once again and they share a look of utter defeat. 

 

It’s the first look they’ve shared in a while.


	21. the crash

They end up shoved into the back of a police car, and if that’s not ironic then Audrey doesn’t know what is. 

 

The cuffs are tight and chafe against her wrists, the skin there surely already raw and pink. “Me and you. It never gets old,” she mumbles. Because it _is_ funny, isn’t it, how everything in this town seems to come back to them? Piper killed because Audrey brought her here, and she’d only brought Piper here because Emma had abandoned her. Piper wanted to kill because Emma was her half-sister and she was jealous of her perfect life. They reconnected because of Piper’s killings, and almost broke apart because of her accomplice. Now, the accomplice has brought them back together again, and in the minds of the Lakewood PD, _they’re_ the killers.

 

“We didn’t do this,” she snarls at the cop. He meets her eyes in the mirror but doesn’t say anything. “Are you _listening_ to me?” she shouts, banging against the metal grid that separates them. Emma flinches at the loud noise, and Audrey regrets it instantly.

 

Emma’s discomfort is quickly forgotten, however, when they see the figure standing in the middle of the road. The cop has turned to glare at them and doesn’t see it, and cold dread rushes through Audrey as she realizes that they’re about to _hit_ someone. “Whoa, hey! Look out!” Emma screams next to her. The tires squeal as the cop tries to swing wide to avoid the man, but he goes too wide as the metal side of the car ends up squealing against the concrete barrier on the edge of the road. 

 

They slam into a utility pole, pain radiating through Audrey’s neck as she’s thrown backwards and then jolted forwards by the impact. Emma cries out next to her, and Audrey’s heart is racing as they slow to a stop, smoke billowing from the crushed hood of the car. She wants to ask Emma if she’s okay, wants to look over her and make sure that she doesn’t need to go to the hospital, but the cuffs won’t let her and she can’t quite seem to formulate a sentence right now. 

 

There’s the slam of a car door as the cop gets out up front, but the slam is quickly followed by the pop of a bullet as his gun goes off. Audrey cranes her neck to see what’s happening, everything sore and aching, and is instantly greeted with the sight of the cop’s body pressed against the window, red coating the glass as the masked figure behind him stabs and stabs.

 

“Wait, where’d he go?” Audrey stammers as the killer disappears from view.

 

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Emma breathes. “Do you see him?” 

 

“No,” Audrey whispers. There’s quiet all around them for a few moments, the both of them panting heavily, the metallic scent of blood in the air and bile in the back of Audrey’s throat. This is _so_ beyond sick, and she’d easily admit she was terrified if Emma weren’t right next to her. She can’t let anything happen to Emma, and part of that involves not looking as scared as she is. Because if she’s scared, then Emma will be scared, and then neither of them will be thinking rationally.

 

The door on Audrey’s side is thrown open, and Emma screams. Audrey propels herself backwards, throwing herself in front of Emma because she’ll be damned if she lets this psycho stab her. She prepares herself for the pain, has accepted the fight that’s likely to come (although it definitely won’t be a fair fight with these cuffs on her hands), and closes her eyes as the killer waves the bloodied knife in the air.

 

But they don’t stab her. They don’t even try to. 

 

Instead, the jingling of keys rings out in the air as the killer throws them onto the seat and disappears.

 

“Those are the keys to the handcuffs,” Emma gasps behind her. 

 

Audrey’s got them in the blink of an eye, and the sound of handcuffs screwing apart is something she never thought she’d be so relieved to hear. They’re out of the cop car in seconds, Emma dashing for the gun, and normally that’s something Audrey wouldn’t let her do, but — 

 

But this is it, she thinks. This is life or death now. The killer is going to come for them.

 

And in that moment, there’s something that Audrey Jensen knows for sure.

 

She’ll die before she lets that killer touch a hair on Emma’s head.


	22. the reveal

She wakes up to the sound of a gunshot.

 

The last thing she remembers is the Zenith, with Brooke, Emma, Noah, and Kieran. She remembers being left alone in the back, watching Emma’s figure retreating and wanting nothing more than to go with her. And then, she remembers, a white-hot flash of pain, something slamming into the back of her head, and everything fading to black.

 

“Audrey! Audrey,” Emma breathes, rushing over to her, and suddenly Emma’s hands are cupping the sides of her face, blood everywhere and smearing across her cheeks. She wants to ask Emma if she’s hurt, but she’s so confused and her head still hurts and everything is dizzy and tilted.

 

“What’s happening?” she manages to get out.

 

“It’s over. I think it’s over,” Emma tells her. She glances over and sees a body, a body in a blue hoodie, and she recognizes that hoodie. He’d worn it in Calculus a couple times. _Eli. Eli was the killer? We were right?_

 

“We’re calling the police,” someone declares, and Audrey realizes that it’s Kieran. “You will feel safe again, Emma. You too, Audrey.” Something twinges in her stomach at his voice, some strange gut feeling telling her that something is wrong here, and Emma feels it, too, her hands freezing on Audrey’s jawline.

 

“What did you just say?” Emma says softly, turning to look at Kieran.

 

“We’re calling the police,” Kieran repeats.

 

“No, not that. What—?” Emma starts, hands falling away as she stands up and moves closer to Kieran. “Before that… You just said… I will feel safe again?” Audrey’s gut is screaming at her now, telling her that something is _definitely_ not right here, but she’s too groggy, too hazy to get up. She looks down at her wrists to find that she’s chained to the chair, anyway, and panic makes her heart start to thud at an alarming rate. 

 

“He said something just like that on the phone,” Emma continues, voice breaking. 

 

“What?” Kieran snaps.

 

“The killer.” Emma’s trembling, Audrey can see it from here. “The killer said, ‘You will never feel safe again’.” Kieran doesn’t respond, and Emma gasps quietly. “Oh my God,” she whispers. “Oh, my God, it’s you.” 

 

Audrey wants out of these chains. _Now_. She can already see how this is going to play out, and it’s not a version of events she likes.

 

“No… No, Kieran…” Emma stammers, stepping closer to him. Audrey’s on her feet in an instant. _Maybe I’m close enough that I can reach out and pull her back if I need to. Can I use these chains as a weapon? Could I grab the gun—_ “Tell me that I’m wrong,” Emma cries out.

 

Kieran’s breathing heavily, strangely, like he might explode. “Kieran?” Audrey finds herself saying. This is scaring her, it’s all scaring her, Kieran’s behavior, Eli’s body, Emma’s proximity to both of those things — 

 

“You’re not wrong,” Kieran whispers, a smile spreading across his features. Audrey’s blood runs cold. 

 

“Emma!” Eli suddenly shouts, springing up like he’s not been lying here half-dead this whole time, and Emma screams as Kieran shoots him, not just once, but _three_ times. He slumps against the wall, leaving a trail of dark red blood in his wake, and Audrey might actually puke all over this chair, either from fear or disgust or some weird combination of the two.

 

“You know,” Kieran continues, “he probably _really_ liked you.” Emma’s backed up against one of the beds, and Audrey realizes that they’ve been here before. This is the orphanage where Piper grew up. _Oh, my God._

 

“You’re a monster,” Emma sobs. _No, Emma, stop, don’t say anything else, don’t make him come near you—_

 

Kieran steps towards Emma, and Audrey wants to scream as she sees the glint of a knife in the air. “And the best part is… you just told me you _love_ me,” Kieran hisses. Audrey’s tearing at her chains, trying desperately to pretend that doesn’t not just hurt her, but also scare the crap out of her, because Kieran is _right here_ and he’s got a _knife_ in Emma’s face and he is clearly a total psychopath and she has no control over the situation. _Oh, God, Emma’s gonna die, we’re all gonna die, and I can’t stop him, I can’t—_

 

Kieran hears the noise and has a gun pointed her way in an instant. “I did,” Emma bites out. “Not now.” 

 

Audrey’s fumbling with the lock, but nothing’s working. “Oh. Okay,” Kieran says mockingly. He’s more focused on her, obviously worried that Audrey might work her way out of the chains, and all she can do is snarl at him as he gets closer and waves the gun in her face.

 

“Tell me, so you and Piper, you’re— what?” Emma says shakily. It’s an obvious attempt at a distraction, and Audrey’s simultaneously thankful and furious. _If he kills me, he kills me. But don’t turn his attention towards you when you could be getting away right now!_

 

“Oh, we were together before you and I even met,” Kieran laughs. “All it took was your mother throwing Piper out like trash and my dad dumping me in Atlanta so he could party on pain pills. It made me and Piper _sick_ to see them together.”

 

Emma needs to get out of here, and Kieran is far too focused on her right now. Audrey needs to turn his attention back to her. “Okay! Okay, so, so all of this, for you, all of this is all about some messed up _daddy issues_? Really?” she snarls.

 

It works. Kieran turns towards her. “You’re right,” he says solemnly. Audrey can _see_ the crazy in his eyes. “I should’ve _definitely_ seen someone about that. But Piper showed me that _killing_ people is _way_ more fun than therapy. So… I made the sheriff and the medical examiner look like idiots.” He’s back near Emma now, and Audrey’s fingers are slick on the lock, working as fast as she can to try to undo her chains.

 

“We tortured them with a killing spree they could not stop!” Kieran says gleefully. “And the last kills were gonna be my dad, and then you, and then your mother,” he continues, pointing at Emma with the knife. It makes Audrey sick.

 

“You were Piper’s last surprise,” Emma says softly.

 

“Surprise!” Kieran grins. “Your boyfriend is banging your crazy half-sister, and we’re _both_ about to kill you!” 

 

“And then I showed up, with a gun!” Audrey interrupts. She can’t let this psychotic narrative go on, this has to end as quickly as possible, and it’ll start by Emma getting away. And for Emma to get away, _she_ has to make Kieran mad so he’ll focus on her and let Emma slip off. 

 

“Yes,” Kieran hisses, pointing the gun at her again. “And you killed… my Piper.” The gun is cold and hard as he brushes it against the side of her head, and Audrey knows Emma is probably formulating some kind of crazy plan, so she has to get him worked up quickly, get him angry at her _now._

 

“Yes,” she encourages him. 

 

“Which is why I tortured you, too,” Kieran continues, practically spitting in her face as he shoves the gun into the side of her head. “It’s gonna look like you lured me here as the last victim, except I turned the tables on you and killed you both! Stopped the rampage! I’ll be the new hero.” He’s stepped away from her now, is more in between her and Emma, and it makes Audrey so uneasy she can barely breathe. _Focus, focus… Get him away from Emma…_

 

“No one is gonna believe you, you _psychopath_ ,” Emma growls.

 

“That’ll be for me to worry about. You’ll be dead,” Kieran snarls, storming towards Emma with his knife pointed straight at her, and Audrey can’t let this happen. _NO!_

 

“I don’t think so!” she cries out, kicking the chair Kieran’s way. He falls spectacularly, and adrenaline pumps through Audrey’s veins as she screams, “ _Run_ , Emma! Get out of here! Go!” Kieran stumbles to his feet and pins her against the wall, yelling in her ear, and Audrey’s not really ready to die but at least Emma will be okay—

 

“Hey! If you let me get away all of this will have been for nothing!” Emma calls, dashing behind the bed. 

 

“ _No_!” Audrey shouts, cold, hard fear lancing through her chest as Kieran breaks away from her and heads towards Emma. He stops at her cry and turns back to her.

 

He’s got her by the chain before she knows it.

 

“Emma!” Kieran says loudly, voice hoarse and rough, completely different from the smooth-voiced friend Audrey thought she’d once had. “Emma, you’re not gonna win this! I’ve got Audrey!” He tugs her into his arms, and she hates the feeling of him entrapping her, knows she’ll never be able to touch a leather jacket again as Kieran’s grazes her cheek.

 

“I can make her death easy or hard!” Kieran continues to shout.

 

“You know, she’s probably already gone!” Audrey snaps. She wants that to be true, she wants Emma to be okay. There’s no way Emma would stay for her, anyway, not after all she’s done. Distracting Kieran for a second was enough.

 

Kieran drags her to the top of a set of stairs, his hands pressing into her chest in a way that makes her skin crawl. “You already lost, Emma,” he calls out. 

 

“Don’t give him what he wants! Get _out_ of here!” she pleads, desperate and edging on hysteric. She wants Emma to be gone, but something in her gut tells her she’s not.

 

Kieran pulls her down the stairs and into him until they’re face-to-face. “Don’t think I won’t end you right now,” he says lowly. “I’m _done_ with you! You’re trash.” The words don’t hurt because Audrey already knows them to be true, but she wishes Emma didn’t have to hear them. She wishes Emma wasn’t here at all. _Maybe she’s not here. Maybe she’s on her way back to Lakewood right now, maybe the police are on their way—_

 

“Looks like you’re gonna need her until you find me,” Emma taunts. Audrey’s heart sinks. _I told you not to stay, oh god. Please don’t do this to me, Em, please don’t die before my eyes I don’t want to go out like this—_

 

“Stop being _stupid_ , Emma! If you go, at least one of us lives!” she tries to convince the other girl. Kieran leads them around a corner, and Audrey sees the opportunity, her chains hanging loose in his hands. _Maybe I can just_ — 

 

She makes the decision impulsively when she hears Emma fumbling around somewhere and throws the chains Kieran’s direction. It doesn’t work, Kieran just grabbing her and holding her tight to his chest, and pain temporarily disables her for a second as the back of her head, right where Kieran had knocked her out earlier, slams into him.

 

Emma gasps at the sound of Audrey’s failed attempt, her groan echoing throughout the orphanage, and Kieran stops in his tracks, pointing a gun at Audrey to make her stay as he goes to explore the area. “Emma,” he whispers as he finds a hole in the wall of boxes and toys. 

 

The last thing Audrey sees before the chaos is Emma’s beautiful green eyes, staring right back at them through the hole, before the wall tumbles over and everything becomes a blur.

 

She tugs away from Kieran as he falls, the gun clattering to the floor as Emma dashes out from behind the mess and grabs it. Audrey finds herself hiding in the corner, chains at the ready, as Emma tucks herself behind another rack of items. She knows what they’re going to do now.

 

Kieran scrambles to his feet, muttering Emma’s name, and Audrey can only watch as Emma steps out and fires at him. “How does it feel to be helpless?” Emma calls out, mocking him. Audrey’s never been more proud of her, even though Kieran dodges every shot. “How does it feel to be hunted?” 

 

Kieran backs towards the column in the center of the room, and Audrey’s right behind him, swinging the chain in her hand as Emma emerges with the gun. He’s trapped now, and it’s a scarily delicious feeling. “Wondering when it’s gonna end?” Emma says. That’s when Audrey wraps the chain around his neck and _pulls_ , forcing him up against the column.

 

“Okay, so how are we gonna end this game?” Emma taunts, stepping ever closer. _No, Emma, don’t get closer. What if he somehow gets you? What if he manages to stab you? Don’t do it._ Emma moves closer still, and something primal and vicious overtakes Audrey, the survival part of her brain kicking in and taking over.

 

“Shoot him. _Shoot_ him, Emma! He deserves it!” she screams.

 

“Yeah, come on!” Kieran growls. “You’re a killer. Shoot me! _Do_ it!” 

 

Emma places the gun against his forehead. “I get to choose how you’re gonna die,” she whispers. Audrey waits to hear the gunshot.

 

But then, Emma pulls the gun away. “And you’re not,” she says simply. “Not today. You’re gonna rot in prison, because you lost at your own sick game.”

 

_Why aren’t you shooting him?_ Audrey’s brain screams. _He’s going to get away, shoot him, Emma, SHOOT HIM—_

 

“Sheriff’s Department!” 

 

Emma drops the gun, and Audrey lets go. And so does that awful, primal fear.

 

It’s over. It’s finally over. Emma pulls her close, Audrey’s head falling against her shoulder. 

 

They’re safe. _They’re safe._

 

It’s more than Audrey could have ever asked for. 


	23. the intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't anything that technically canonically happens in the special or S2, but i wanted to add it in there!
> 
> fun fact: it's called "the intermission" because it's the bridge between S2 and the halloween special, and also the bridge between Kieran's killing spree and the killing spree on the island. woo!! creativity!

Their Lakewood Six has become the Lakewood Four.

 

 

A month after Kieran’s reveal, they become the Lakewood Five when Stavo and Brooke make their relationship official.

 

It’s nice to have a support system, even though they’re all now acutely aware they’ll never be anything close to normal, if they weren’t already before, and that can make things more than a little depressing sometimes. They have a hard time finding their rhythm; hanging out together doesn’t feel as natural and easy as it did after Piper’s spree. Kieran has ruined their trust in each other, has put more than one elephant in the room, and it takes them a little while to finally be able to talk about those elephants.

 

But they do talk about them, around the two-month mark. It’s March, so the daffodils are in full bloom by now, and that’s when Audrey insists on driving Emma to the field and having a talk. _Whatever you wanna talk about, Em,_ she says, _but everything’s been weird lately and it’s not even our brand of weird. Things have been off and I want to know if we’re okay._

 

She doesn’t expect for them to be okay. Sitting in the field, daffodils brushing against her knees, she’s really just waiting for Emma to admit she’ll never forgive Audrey for what she did, and for the other girl to get up and walk away. And there’s another part of her, the hopeless-romantic side that she strives so hard to hide away, that wishes Emma would bring up the confession. Audrey’s too scared to bring it up herself, and while she could maybe find liquid courage in Brooke’s vodka stash (although they’re all a little afraid of alcohol after the ayahuasca incident), she doesn’t want this discussion to be a drunken one. She wants them to be sober, and she wants them to be honest.

 

To her credit, Emma _does_ talk. She talks about Kieran’s reveal, and how much it had hurt, and how grateful and _surprised_ she’d been when Audrey had tried to save her. Audrey wants to tell her that she shouldn’t ever be surprised by that — she’s been saving Emma from things since they were little — but she keeps silent, for fear of feeling too much. Emma talks about the Piper letters, and she talks about how she’d never realized the extent of Audrey’s hurt stemming from her abandonment. Emma apologizes. So does Audrey. They both resolve that they still desperately want to be friends.

 

She talks about her biggest elephants in the room with everyone else. She and Noah talk about Zoe, and Audrey tells him how sorry she is, for not trusting him, for not being able to save Zoe, for kidnapping him that day and scaring him to the point where he had to confess his feelings. She and Brooke split a bottle of Cheerwine (even though Brooke insists it’s “sugary arsenic for the veins”) and talk about the video of Audrey with Jake’s body until the bottle’s empty. Even Stavo allows her to buy him a cup of coffee at the Grindhouse and apologize for the tablet one last time. But she and Emma, they never talk about the confession. And so that haunts Audrey.

 

To be fair, she’s beyond grateful — she’s had plenty a nightmare about Emma leaving her for good, and up until their time in the daffodil field, she’d believed those nightmares to be perfectly realistic. To still have Emma as her best friend is more than she could’ve ever asked for. 

 

But there’s a part of her brain that doesn’t get that, and so every day she’s haunted by the _what-ifs_. _What if Emma just pities you and is friends with you because she feels bad? What if Emma loves you back but is just too scared to admit it? (Nah, that could never happen) What if Emma’s told everyone about what you said in the barn and they’re all just friends with you because they feel bad? What if every day you’re living is a giant mistake?_

 

Genuine happiness is something Audrey Jensen hasn’t allowed herself to know in a long time. She gets little glimpses of it, when they’re all having a picnic by the lake (Brooke calls it their Reclaiming the Lake Day, and it’s true, in a way — they’re reclaiming the place that used to terrify them all so much, that holds so many bad memories for a few of them) and Stavo makes a really funny joke, and she’s laughing until her sides ache. She gets little glimpses of it, when Brooke decides they all have to go to junior prom, and so she drags her and Emma dress-shopping and they all split one of those giant Auntie Ann’s pretzels in the food court, and Emma smears a little dipping sauce on her face by accident and they’re all giggling, and maybe this is what friendship is _supposed_ to feel like. She gets little glimpses of it, when Brooke holds a small get-together for what would’ve been Jake’s seventeenth birthday, and they all sit around a little bonfire holding their beers, and Noah puts his head on her shoulder and everything just feels _right_. 

 

But it never lasts for long. Some intrusive thought always pops into her head, something to ruin the moment, something to ensure her happiness doesn’t last longer than a millisecond because _god knows_ she doesn’t deserve anything more than that. 

 

Emma, Noah, and Brooke, they all go to therapy. They try to get her to go, too, but Audrey won’t, for a few reasons. First of all, she’s scared. She’s committed her fair share of crimes during these killing sprees, and what if her therapist turns her in? She can’t risk that. Second, she wants to be stronger than that. It’s not like she judges her friends for going to therapy — they’re still all plenty strong to her — but Audrey’s never been the confessional type, part of why she never did too well in church, and she just _hates_ the idea of spilling all her secrets to a stranger. It’s not like her, and she’s never had to do it before, so why now? _Don’t be weak._

 

And then there’s the final reason. _She’s scared_. Scared of what she might find out about herself. Scared of what she might have to do, what she might have to admit to in order to supposedly feel better. What if her therapist tells her she’s a psychopath, or a compulsive liar, or an utterly repulsive person? How will she ever be able to live with herself after that? 

 

Audrey can’t bear the thought of that. Just imagining it makes her cringe. Therapy is decidedly not for her.

 

And then she meets Gina. Fiery, slightly-intimidating, new-boss Gina. 

 

They start dating a month before the first anniversary of Piper’s killings. To the day, actually. Kind of morbid, but Audrey doesn’t say anything. Gina tells her she’s too paranoid sometimes. What Gina doesn’t know is that’s how you _survive_ after going through the things she’s been through, you _live_ by being paranoid and checking under every bed and creating a million different escape plans every time you enter a room and thinking of what objects you can use to defend yourself if someone in here were to attack you.

 

Audrey doesn’t tell her that, though. Gina’s probably right. She’s the normal one, after all.

 

She loves Gina, she does, but it’s — it’s not in the same way. It’s not the aching, novel first love that she’d had with Rachel. It’s not the fiery, all-consuming, I’d-kill-for-you-and-not-think-twice love she’d had for Emma, either. It’s lighter, less intense, and she cares about her, really she does, but it’s just _not the same_. Audrey tries to pretend that it is, plasters on the fakest of fake grins when she sees the redhead walking her way and makes sure to lather on the PDA when her friends are around, but it’s all hollow and meaningless to her.

 

Is this what happiness is supposed to feel like? Cheap, plastic, and bought? It doesn’t feel like she earned this. It doesn’t even feel like she _wants_ this.

 

But she’s probably wrong. She’s not normal, after all. How is she supposed to know what normal things feel like anymore?

 

(Still, she can’t help the creeping thought that if Gina were Emma, happiness would feel a lot more authentic.)


	24. the island hottie

She tries really hard to be a good girlfriend — really, she does. She’s basically a charity case of a significant other, and Gina’s being generous in even giving her the time of day, let alone dating her. So Audrey tries to make up for that the best she can, and when Noah invites her on the trip to Shallow Grove Island (even though _she_ doesn’t wanna think twice about saying yes), Audrey of course pretends to be hesitant and clears it with Gina first. It’s why she calls Gina the second she finds that unicorn figurine in the rental house, and it’s why she’s promised to text her at least once every two hours, even though Audrey’d originally planned to be far too wasted for anything like that for the majority of her stay.

 

But even the good girlfriend has her downfalls, and of course Audrey’s involves Emma. Guilt immediately weighs on her at the way her lip trembles a little bit when Emma asks her to join on her island stroll. _How exciting can a bunch of plants and murky water be_? Audrey thinks, but of course she immediately agrees.

 

Helping Emma flirt with the local island hottie, however, was not a part of the agreement.

 

Audrey sees the way he looks at her best friend, of course. She’s looking at Emma, Emma’s glancing at the tattoo binder, and Local Island Hottie™ is staring at Emma. It’s a scene she grew accustomed to in freshman year, when Will Belmont first decided Emma would be the new subject of his desires, but that doesn’t mean Audrey’s ever enjoyed it, and this time is no different. She’s not sure what creeps her out more — his leer or his worn leather jacket, all too similar to Kieran’s. 

 

_But you’re New Audrey now,_ she reminds herself. _The Audrey who’s happy for Emma when she goes on dates with sleazy guys and who has a beautiful girlfriend named Gina and laughs at cheesy jokes and drinks crappy beer because it’s all far more than you deserve. You don’t get to be green-eyed, angry, jealous Audrey anymore. You lost that right the second Emma took you back._

 

So she encourages him. “Do you have any suggestions for the lady?” she says coyly, batting her lashes for extra effect. 

 

“Uh…” the guy starts. He looks uncertain for a second, maybe worried that Audrey’s caught on to his gross stares, but then he sets his groceries down and heads Emma’s way. They’re chatting about tattoo ideas in an instant, and Audrey turns around and pays for their items because even though she’s New Audrey now, she still can’t bear to look at them together.

 

She ends up having to, though, because just as they’re getting ready to leave, Emma finds dead fish in their bag and realizes they’ve accidentally grabbed the island hottie’s items. Just as Audrey’s pulling out her phone to text Gina, too. Audrey throws on a devilish grin and pretends it was all just a part of her plan to force Emma to talk to the guy, but really it’s just her bad luck and poor timing.

 

His name turns out to be Alex. 


	25. the docks

She doesn’t deserve the way Brooke and Emma drag her to the docks with a pack of soda and a “plan for fun”. Gina’s already pissed — she accidentally ignored one of her calls on the way back to the house after the encounter with Alex, which apparently is not Good Girlfriend Behavior. Her mistake.

 

And because Gina’s pissed, Audrey ends up spending the majority of her time with Brooke and Emma composing a long apology over text. Even though she doesn’t respond to it. Or the call she makes beforehand saying she’s sorry. “Audrey, less text-y, more friend time,” Brooke says lightly. She does it jokingly, but Audrey knows it’s more of a warning than a laugh.

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she apologizes, even though the _click_ of her phone locking rings in her ears longer than she’d care to admit. “Gina hasn’t answered any of my calls or any of my texts, and she always texts me back—”

 

“Relax,” Brooke cuts in. Emma takes a long swig of her drink, briefly hides her face behind the soda can, and Audrey pretends that she can’t see the way her smile turns down at the corners, because isn’t that easier for both of them? “Gina’s obsessed with you,” Brooke continues.

 

Emma lets the soda can fall to her side at that. “And isn’t she working, like, every shift at the movie theater this weekend?” she adds with a laugh. “I mean, she’s busy!” Audrey desperately wishes she didn’t like the sound of that laugh so much, especially when they’re talking about her _girlfriend_.

 

“Or, you know, she’s just figuring out she has more fun without me,” Audrey says. Emma and Brooke both shake their heads at this, like she’s just committed the cardinal sin of dating or something. It kinda makes Audrey ashamed, because she’s never _done this_ before. All her life has been spent loving people, yes, even people who didn’t love her back, but this is the first time someone has actually decided to _officially_ love her, too. And Gina deserves far better than her, Audrey knows that, and she’s such a shitty girlfriend for sitting here and wanting nothing more than to be Brooke, cuz Emma’s got her arm around Brooke and they’re _so close_ — 

 

“You’re _so_ new to this relationship thing,” Brooke sighs. “Trust me, distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Emma chuckles at that. “Uh, at least, I hope so. I kind of just told Stavo to think twice about moving to New York with me.” 

 

“I’m new to relationships, but why would you say that?” Audrey asks slowly. It’s nice to be able to focus on someone else’s relationship rather than her own, if she’s being completely honest with herself (which is a rarity these days).

 

Brooke scoffs a little. “I can’t be responsible for Stavo moving across the country for me,” she says indignantly. “I’m barely responsible for myself!” 

 

“You make it sound like he’s a child you’re gonna have to babysit,” Audrey points out. They fall into silence for a moment, and Audrey unlocks her phone and checks it again because that’s become something like a nervous tic these days. Gina really does get _pissed_ if she doesn’t respond to her texts within the hour — even if she’s at work — and Audrey can’t remember how many arguments they’ve had over it.

 

“What about you, Em?” Brooke says, turning to the real center of Audrey’s attention, the one she desperately tries to ignore by sending her fingers flying with yet another text to Gina. Emma glances over at her, though, so Audrey puts her phone away and listens to Brooke, who is currently in the middle of asking about Alex. Audrey pulls a funny face when Brooke looks at her, but it all feels so hollow. 

 

“It looked like you were into him, and he was definitely into you,” Audrey insists when Emma tries to deny the tale of the cookie thief. She doesn’t know why she does these things, these things that hurt so much, but it’s all for Emma, isn’t it? Emma deserves happiness. Audrey ruined her happiness by bringing Piper (and with her, Kieran) to Lakewood. She owes her one for that, right?

 

So that’s why, when Audrey spots the boy from the grocery store out by the docks, she immediately points him out to Emma and whistles hello. It’s also why she tells Emma to go and takes her place by Brooke’s side. And it’s why she pretends that none of that hurts like hell.

 

_Is this what happiness feels like?_ she wonders, watching Emma twirl her hair and smile at the grocery store boy ( _Alex_ ). She wants to let herself feel bad about it, convince herself it wasn’t a good idea, but Emma is glowing, _shiny_ with her newfound romance.

 

So. _Is this what happiness feels like?_

 

_Sure it is._


	26. the argument

Gina shows up with bloodied hands and a scream, and still Audrey can’t think about anything other than Emma.

 

She fucks up. She asks too many questions and lets the tight panic in her chest get too much of a hold on her. It pisses Gina off, and the way she storms out of the room is almost more violent than the intense lightning storm going on outside, and there are suddenly a lot of conflicting feelings in Audrey at this moment. She’s scared, but she also feels guilty about feeling scared, and she also feels like a shitty girlfriend, but that’s because she _is_ a shitty girlfriend, a guilty, scared, shitty girlfriend who jumps to conclusions far too quickly. That’s how she always loses people, isn’t it? She assumed her mom would always be healthy, and then her mom ended up in Boston with Stage III breast cancer. Emma left, and Audrey immediately blamed it on the pretty people, and then she brought a killer — no, _two_ killers to Lakewood. Noah met Zoe, Audrey thought he’d chosen the other girl over her, and then the last words Zoe ever heard from her were spiteful vitriol. Zoe died thinking Audrey _hated_ her, and that chills Audrey to the bone.

 

And the worst offense. Rachel. Audrey always thought they’d have more time left. She’d try to move too quickly, ask Rachel to go on a date to the movies, something public, and Rachel would always say, _“Slow down, Audrey. We have all the time in the world.”_ And Audrey had always thought she was right. They _did_ have all the time in the world.

 

Well, they didn’t. Rachel died at age sixteen with a noose around her neck, Audrey got her heart broken, and time left them behind. Time didn’t stop for them. Her mistake for jumping to the conclusion that it would.

 

But then Gina fucks up too. In the aftermath of their fight, Audrey finds herself in an empty bedroom, alone with Gina’s phone, and she does the crappy, overly-nosy girlfriend thing and looks through her photos. The pictures are cute at first glance — her and Emma, hugging by the docks — but then Audrey realizes something. Gina must have been _watching_ them, from the bushes or something, to take those pictures. And that whole time, she, Brooke, and Emma — they had no idea Gina was there.

 

The sheer creepiness of that sends shivers down Audrey’s spine, paranoia firmly taking over again — and perhaps this time, it’s for the best. 

 

“What the hell are these?” she finds herself shouting, skidding to a stop towards the bottom of the staircase as her girlfriend walks her way.

 

Gina’s face turns the same shade of red as her hair. “You opened my phone?” she shrieks.

 

“You didn’t want to come, and then you surprise me, and now I find out you’ve been _stalking_ me?” Audrey screams. She’s not sure what hurts more about it, the flashbacks or the sheer betrayal. Gina knows her past, knows how anxious she gets these days about anything as minor as an opened window, and yet she’d stalked her all day, without a care in the world. It’s not even that it’s a betrayal on a relationship level, because if Audrey’s being frank with herself, that part she doesn’t care about too much. It’s more about the betrayal on a basic _human_ level.

 

“I’m not stalking you,” Gina scoffs, but her eyes lie. They’re wide and wild, like a deer caught in the headlights, and Audrey’s never quite understood that phrase before but now it’s stunningly clear to her.

 

“You were on the island taking _pictures_ of us, you _lied_ to me! How can you possibly explain that?” Audrey snarls. 

 

Gina snatches the phone from her. “I came to surprise you yesterday, okay? When I saw you and Emma talking so intimately, I just backed off,” she insists. “I didn’t know what to do.” She’s playing the Emma card again, like she has a thousand times before, and it’s so immensely frustrating that Audrey can barely even stand to look at her. Audrey has an Emma problem, yes, but this relationship does not have an Emma problem. Right now, actually, it looks like this relationship has a _Gina_ problem.

 

“I don’t understand, okay?” she says, lowering her voice so she doesn’t scare her friends in the other room. “Why?” 

 

“You know my last girlfriend cheated on me,” Gina almost whimpers.

 

“I’m not _cheating_ on you.” 

 

“You spend a lot of time with Emma,” Gina retorts. “You told me you once had a thing for her.” 

 

“Not anymore. Not like that,” Audrey says indignantly, even if something in her head whispers that that feels like a lie.

 

“Then why do you always choose her over me?” Gina demands. 

 

“I don’t!” Audrey’s voice is rising again, and she hates how high her voice sounds with desperation.

 

Gina takes a deep breath, allowing a beat of silence between them, before she says slowly, “I hate how petty this sounds, but every time she calls, you’re there. Even when we have plans, you could have picked me this weekend, but you picked her.” 

 

Audrey doesn’t even know what to say to that, but thankfully, she doesn’t have to come up with a response as Emma stumbles down the stairs and calls out, “Audrey, Audrey! Come here, you have to see this.” 

 

“Right now?” she yells back, anger tingeing her voice in a way that makes her wince. 

 

“Yes, right now. Come here!” Emma cries. 

 

She can’t help it. Emma needs her. And Gina can wait, right? This is a two-way street, this relationship. “Stay,” she murmurs, and then she’s tearing up the stairs like her life depends on it. 

 

It totally contradicts everything she’s just said. Audrey knows that. But petty arguments and hypocrisy, that all falls away with Emma. And Audrey wishes desperately for that to be something Gina could understand.


	27. the revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little chapter, but I felt it was important. And, unfortunately, the last chapter of Moments II! I am so excited for Season 3. Thank you for reading, and I can assure you we will see a third part to this saga in the spring :)

The man she thought she knew as Alex lies broken and bloodied on the front steps of the Whitman mansion, but none of that knocks the wind out of her the way that the sight of Emma — a lone, regal figure in the backdrop of rain and lightning — does. 

 

And that makes her realize three things.

 

One: She’s not over Emma. Not in the way she thought she was. 

 

Two: This Emma Duval is not the same Emma Duval she befriended at the stables twelve years ago. She is also not the Emma Duval who left and morphed into someone else when Nina extended a warm welcome her way, nor is she the Emma Duval she became when Piper’s body hit the waters of Wren Lake that cool October night. Emma is no longer broken, fragile, vulnerable trauma victim Emma. She’s a _survivor_. She is tough, and she is sharp, and her bite is _far_ worse than her bark. She is something beautifully dangerous. 

 

And three: Because of all these things, Emma does not need her anymore. Not like Audrey had ever been so self-serving as to believe that Emma would ever really want her or need _her_ specifically, but the point is, Emma doesn’t need anyone else’s protection now. She’s come into her own. 

 

And so Audrey has to move on. Even if she still loves her. Because Emma will never need her in the same way Audrey needs her. 

 

She has to try to find happiness with Gina, even if it doesn’t feel the same.

 

And so, while Emma stands shivering but stone-faced by the van, Audrey walks up to Gina and says, “I get why you suspected me of cheating. I do.” 

 

It’s a concession in a battle Audrey wishes she’d never fought. “Believe me, karma kicked my ass for that,” Gina retorts, and _maybe this won’t be so bad_. 

 

“It’s just… You need to understand that Emma is part of my life, one of the most important parts, and no one’s ever gonna take her place. But you and me, that’s completely different,” Audrey assures her, stepping forward and closing the gap between them. “They don’t have to compete.” 

 

Gina stares at her, wide-eyed and something like hope scrawled all over her features, and Audrey finishes, “I’m really sorry for pushing you away. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

 

“You mean you don’t want to break up?” Gina says slowly. “I totally thought that’s where this was going.” 

 

“Did I ever tell you about the time I kidnapped Noah and tied him up?” Audrey chuckles. “Let’s just say I’ve made some mistakes too.” She pauses for a second, then murmurs, “Come here,” and pulls the other girl into a hug.

 

She doesn’t smell like mango shampoo, and she’s not wearing a glittery pineapple shirt. Her hair isn’t the color of gold and her eyes don’t make Audrey’s heart skip a beat.

 

But she is warm and close and _here_ , and she loves Audrey, and she deserves a chance, right? For putting up with all of her shit. Gina deserves a chance. 

 

And maybe, with enough time, this brand of happiness will start to feel the same as Emma’s. 


End file.
